A Midsummer Day's Dream
by pingo1387
Summary: At the end of a world meeting, England gets his fellow nations to participate in a play. Pairings: USUK, PruCan, Rochu, HunAus.
1. The Play Is Introduced

"Well," said Germany, straightening the papers on the table. "I think that about wraps up this meeting—"

"Wait!" exclaimed England, standing up and holding out several papers. "I have a request for all of you."

"Really, dude?" exclaimed America. "Make it quick! I'm hungry!"

"You're always hungry, you git! Now, please listen. You all know who William Shakespeare is, right?"

"Shakespeare?" said America slowly. Then he brightened. "Oh, I know! He was that guy who invented dynamite!"

"How the bloody hell do you confuse Alfred Nobel for Shakespeare, you idiot! But anyway, for those of you who don't know, Shakespeare was a playwright who wrote such plays as Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Macbeth…"

"_Oui_, but what does that have to do with us?" asked France.

"Well, I was thinking that to honor his memory, we could put on one of his plays – _A Midsummer Night's Dream_."

"Ah, man!" complained America. "No way! That stuff is so hard to understand! It's all 'thou' and 'thee' and 'wherefore' and—"

"Alright, I admit that it is a bit difficult to understand today, so I'll make an exception and you can help me modernize the dialogue."

"Deal!"

"Now, please raise your hand if you know the story."

No one raised his or her hand except for Scotland and a couple of the Nordic countries.

**I'm giving a quick summary of the first half of the story, so if you want to skip it, scroll down to the next text in bold.**

"In that case, allow me to give you a synopsis. The main characters are two girls named Hermia and Helena, with their loves Lysander and Demetrius. Hermia is in love with Lysander, but her father has arranged for her to marry Demetrius. Helena is in love with Demetrius, who recently broke up with her to marry Hermia, whom he loves. Helena is angry with Hermia because she thinks that she stole her boyfriend. Meanwhile, the king and newlywed queen of Athens—"

"Wait, I thought that this was written in England!"

"It's set in Greece, you git! As I was saying, the newlywed king and queen of Athens decide to have a group of actors (Nick Bottom, Francis Flute, Snug, Tom Snout, Peter Quince, and Robin Starveling) to put on the play _Pyramus and Thisbe_ for their royal wedding. We'll get back to them in a minute.

"Now, the king of the faeries, Oberon, is angry at his wife, the queen Titania. She recently came into possession of a boy that she swapped for a changeling—"

"What is a changeling-aru?"

"It's an old tale about a spirit swapping a newborn for one of its own, hence the name changeling. Anyway, the queen refuses to give up the boy to the king for his army. So Oberon asks Robin Goodfellow, also known as Puck, to put a love potion on the queen's eyes while she sleeps, so that she falls in love with the first living thing she sees when she wakes up. As she sleeps, Bottom takes a break from his part to stretch – and Puck puts an ass' head on him—"

America spewed out his coke all over France and cracked up. "Wow! If his face is an ass, I'd hate to see what the back looks like!"

England growled, "I meant the donkey type of ass."

"Oh. Carry on, then."

"So the queen Titania wakes up and falls in love with Bottom… but I'll save the rest for later! For now, why don't we decide on the cast of Act I?"

**End of summary :)**

"Finally," muttered France. "That was taking forever."

"I've already decided on myself for the part of Lysander, so who would like to be Demetrius?"

Prussia called out, "Hey! Is he awesome?"

"Well, that depends on how you view him."

"Kesesesesesese! In that case, I'll play him and _make_ him awesome!"

"…okay…" writing something down, England continued, "And for the parts of Hermia and Helena, how about America and Canada?"

America cheered. "Woo-hoo! I get the part of that awesome chick – wait… I'm a guy! I can't play a girl's part; that'd be stupid!"

England frowned. "Plenty of men played female parts in Shakespeare's time."

"Wake up and smell the hamburgers, England! In case you didn't notice, this isn't the 1900's anymore!"

"First, I actually _can_ smell hamburgers; either you have a bag of McD*nald's under the table or you need a shower. Second, Shakespeare's time was the late 16th century to the early 17th century."

"Ah, I don't care!" exclaimed America. "So long as I'm a boy, I'm not playing a girl!"

"Your only issue with playing a girl is that you're male?"

"Uh, _yeah!_"

England turned to the practically invisible Canada. "What about you, Canada? Do you mind playing a girl?"

"Not really, e-eh…"

"Good." Facing America, England said "Well, America, I guess there's no arguing with you. We'll have to find a different part for you. By the way, would you like some lemonade?" He produced a glass filled with a pale yellow liquid.

"Hey, thanks!" America greedily snatched the drink from the British man's hands and gulped it down in two swallows. He grimaced. "Dude, did you make this lemonade? Because it tastes awf—"

(PWOF)

When the smoke cleared, America blinked, looked down, and uttered a high-pitched shriek. There were two rather large, unfamiliar lumps protruding from underneath the suit.

"What did you do to me, old man!" she yelled at England, her now shoulder-length brown hair falling from behind slim shoulders.

"Just a simple gender-changing potion," said England smugly. "And if you want the antidote, you'll have to play the part."

"Why, you…" America lunged at England, but was held back by Canada. After much struggling, she glared at Canada and settled back into her chair.

"Fine, you bastard. I'll play the part."

"Wonderful! Canada, here's your potion…" England handed said country a drink identical to America's, who accepted it and hesitantly swallowed. After the smoke around him cleared as well, Canada was revealed to be a cute girl with blond hair slightly longer than America's, as well as slightly smaller breasts.

Spain looked at her in surprise. "Oh, my! A _precioso jema _has come to us! Were you here all this time, _bello_?"

"Wow!" Prussia exclaimed while eyeing Canada. "How did I not see you before?"

"Please stop looking at me…" whispered shy Canada.

"Moving on," said England, tearing his eyes away from Canada. "The next part is—"

"Now, hold on," piped up France, a mischievous look on his face. "You put yourself down for Lysander, and you suggested that _amerique_ play the part of his love, Hermia… does that mean that—"

"Of-of course not, stupid frog! I just thought that the git would be a good choice for that part, and besides—"

"_Oui, oui_, keep telling yourself that," he said smugly. "You were saying?"

"Yes, _as I was saying,_ who would like to play the part of the king Theseus?"

With a childish smile, Russia said "I would love to play the part of the king."

England nervously wrote this down and said "In that case, who wants to be Russia's… the king's… wife?"

Before Belarus could say anything, Russia said "Little China will be my wife, Дa?"

China glared at Russia. "I will not play your wife-aru! I am male!"

"Actually, China, I'm fairly certain that you could pass as a female, even without a gender-swap potion."

"_Hai_," Japan said quietly. "To tell the truth, when I first encountered China-_san_, I mistook him for a woman."

"AIYAAA!"

"Anyway, now that's settled…"

"It is not settled-aru!" protested China.

"It is settled, Дa?"

"A-Aiyaa…"

"In the first Act, their majesties have a servant… although he doesn't speak for the time being. Japan, would you mind playing that part?"

"_Ie_."

"Thank you. Frog, can you play Hermia's father?"

"_Oui_, but—"

"No buts."

"Hehe, 'butt'," muttered America.

England double-checked the papers. "Who wants to act as Bottom, Flute, Snout, Quince, Starveling, and Snug?"

"I'll be Bottom!" Yelled Denmark.

"Th't seems 'pr'pri'te," mumbled Sweden.

"How about my Nordic bros be the rest of them! And Scotland, since there's five more!"

"I don't mind!" said cheery Finland.

"Do I really have a choice?" asked Iceland.

"Sure, sounds fun!" exclaimed Scotland, inserting a cigarette into his mouth.

"That's a three out of five vote!" Denmark told England before Norway could say anything.

England shrugged and wrote down their names. "Any preferences as to what parts you all have?"

There was a general murmur of negativity.

"Thank you! How about we meet at thirteen-hundred hours tomorrow at my place, since we're all already staying here?"

"Huh?"

"One P.M."

"Oh! Sure!"

"See you all tomorrow!"


	2. The Lovers Meet And Discuss

The countries eventually gathered at England's house, snacking on store-bought crackers.

"Hey," America was saying to Canada, munching on about ten crackers at once, "can you not call me Alfred? I've picked out a heroic girl's name since the old man won't change me back. It's Emily!"

Canada smiled. "That's a nice name. I picked out Madeline."

"Nice, but it seems a bit stuffy. Hey, something's going on!"

And indeed, England had begun gathering the people to be in Scene 1. "Places, King Theseus, Queen Hippolyta! Servant Philostrate, Hermia and her father Egeus, Lysander, Demetrius, and Helena!"

The actors and actresses obediently got in their places, having read the script the night before.

"And… action!"

The king, queen, and their servant strolled to the middle of the room.

Russia smiled at his queen. "Our wedding day will be here soon, beautiful Hippolyta. We shall be married on the day of the new moon. But ah, the days pass by too slowly…" he looked up at the sky and started secreting a dark purple aura. "You old, slow moon is not changing fast enough. You are keeping me from my prize, such as a mother keeping her stepson from an inheritance. _Kol._"

China, failing to edge away from Russia's strong grip, smiled shakily and said, "No, dear, the days will quickly turn into nights. And since we dream at night-aru, the time will pass quickly then, and before you know it, the new moon will come, curved like a silver bow in the sky-aru."

Russia smiled at Japan, who kept his stoic face. "Go, Philostrate, get the young ones of our city ready for our festivities. We don't want sadness at our wedding or it will ruin everything."

Japan bowed and left the room.

"Hippolyta, I won your love with violence, using my pipe—"

"Sword," hissed England.

"—_kolkolkolkolkol_ sword, and got you to fall in love with me by injuring you. But our wedding shall have, not injuries, but bright festivities and celebrations."

There was a pause, and England glared at France, America, and Prussia. The four of them (including England) hastily made their way to the middle of the room France cleared his throat and proclaimed "Long live Egeus, our famous and respected king!"

Russia smiled. "Thank you, Egeus. What is the news with you?"

France frowned at America. "I've come full of anger at my daughter, Hermia. (Step forward, Demetrius). My lord, this man, Demetrius, has my permission to marry her. (Step forward, Lysander). But this other man, Lysander, has cast a powerful charm on my daughter's heart. You, Lysander, you've given her poems, and exchanged tokens of love with my precious daughter. You've pretended to love her, singing fake love songs softly at her window by the moon, and you've captured her imagination (_ohonhonhon_) by giving her locks of your hair, rings, trinkets, knickknacks, flowers, candies; all these things can influence a young person's heart. You've plotted to steal my daughter's heart, making her stubborn and harsh instead of obedient. And, my gracious king, if she won't agree to marry Demetrius right now, I ask you to let me exercise the right that all fathers have in Athens. Since she belongs to me, I can do what I want with her – as the law says: I can either make her marry Demetrius – or have her executed."

France took a breath and a swig of wine from a small bottle in his pocket.

Russia frowned and turned toward America. "What do you have to say for yourself, my dear? Think carefully, pretty girl. You should think of your father as a god, since he's the one who gave you your beauty. To him, you're like a figure of wax, one that he has the power to keep it intact… or to destroy it. Demetrius is an admirable man."

Prussia puffed up his chest and smirked.

America tossed her hair back and snapped, "So is Lysander."

Prussia visibly deflated.

"You're right, Lysander's admirable as well. But you'll have to consider Demetrius the better man, since your father's against you marrying Lysander."

America stamped her foot. "Oh, why can't he see him the way I see him?"

"…Iggy, that sounded wrong."

"Keep going!"

"No, you must see him as your father sees him."

"My king, please forgive me. I don't know what makes me think I can say this, and I don't know if speaking my mind to a powerful person such as you will damage my reputation for modesty. But please, tell me the worst thing that could happen if I refused my father's wishes."

"You'll either be executed or made to be a nun. So think carefully about what you want. Could you stand to be a nun, forever muttering hymns to a cold statue? True, nuns are blessed in Heaven, but on Earth, a married woman is happier."

"I'd rather wither away than give up my virginity to someone I don't love!"

"Take your time, beautiful Hermia. By the time our wedding comes around, be prepared with your answer."

Prussia finally spoke up. "Please give in, sweet Hermia." He grimaced at calling America 'sweet'. "And Lysander – quit acting like she's yours. I've got more right to her than you!"

England smirked at Prussia. "Well, her father seems to love you, Demetrius. Why not marry him and leave me with fair Hermia?"

"BURN!" yelled Denmark from the sides.

France looked down at England with contempt. "True, Lysander, I love him. That's why I'm giving him my daughter. She is mine, and I'm letting Demetrius have her."

England turned to Russia in a beseeching manner. "My lord, I'm just as noble and rich as he. I love Hermia more than he does. My prospects are as good as his, if not better. And beautiful Hermia loves me, which is more important than everything else. Why shouldn't I be able to marry her? Plus, Demetrius – and I say this to his face – courted Nedar's daughter, Helena, and made her fall in love with him. That sweet lady, Helena, loves devoutly. She adores this horrible and unfaithful man."

Russia turned his frown to Prussia. "I admit I've heard something like that, and I meant to ask Demetrius about it, but I was too busy with personal matters. _Kol._ Now, Demetrius and Egeus, come. I wish to speak to you two in private. As for you, dear Hermia, you should obey your father's wishes, or else die or become a nun – and I'm afraid I can't do anything about that. Come, Hippolyta; how are you, love? Demetrius and Egeus, come with us. I want you to do some things for our wedding, and I also want to… discuss something that concerns you both."

France swallowed nervously at the creepy Russian smile. "W-we're following you not only because it is our duty, but because we want to."

The king, queen, father, and Demetrius left the middle of the room, leaving Lysander and Hermia.

England put on a concerned expression and spoke to America: "What's wrong, my love? Why are you so pale? Why have your rosy cheeks faded away?"

America wiped her eyes and said "Perhaps because the roses of my cheeks need rain, which I could easily give them with all the tears in my eyes."

"Oh, darling! Listen, in books they say that true love always faces obstacles. Either the lovers have different social standings—"

"Oh dear! Imagine being too high on the social ladder, and falling in love with someone beneath you."

"Or else they were very different ages—"

"How awful! Being too old to marry someone too young."

"Or else their guardians and advisors said no—"

"What hell, to have your love life determined by someone else!"

"Or, even if the lovers are a good match, their love might be ruined by war, death, or sickness, so that the affair only lasts an instant. Their time together might be as fleeting as a shadow or as short as a dream, lasting only as long as it takes a lightning bolt to flash across the sky. Before you can say 'look', it's gone. That's how intense things like love are quickly destroyed."

America sighed. "If true lovers are always thwarted, then it must be fate. So let's try to be patient as we deal with our problem. It's as normal a part of love as dreams, sighs, wishes, and tears."

"That's the right attitude to have. So, listen, Hermia. I have an aunt who is a widow, who's very rich and doesn't have any children. She lives about twenty miles from Athens, and she thinks of me as a son. I could marry you there, gentle Hermia, where the strict laws of Athens can't touch us. So here's the plan. If you love me, sneak out of your father's house tomorrow night and meet me in the forest a few miles outside of town. You remember the place – I met you there once with Helena to celebrate May Day. I'll wait for you there."

"Oh, Lysander, I swear I'll come. I swear by Cupid's strongest bow and his best gold-tipped arrow, by the Goddess of Love's innocent doves, by everything that ties lovers together, by the bonfire where Queen Dido burned herself to death when her lover Aeneas jilted her, and by all the promises that men have broken (and men have broken more promises than women have ever made). I give you my word, I will meet you there tomorrow.

"Geez, Iggy, this girl does a lot of swearing in her free time."

"Keep your promise, my love. Look, here comes Helena."

Canada came to where America and England were standing.

America smiled and waved. "Hello, beautiful Helena! Where are you going?"

"Did you just call me beautiful?" said Canada in a surprisingly bitter voice. "Take it back. You're the beautiful one as far as Demetrius is concerned. Oh, you're so lucky! Your eyes are like stars, and your voice is more musical than a lark's song is to a shepherd in the springtime. Sickness is contagious – I wish beauty were contagious too! I would catch your good looks before I left. My ear would be infected with your voice, my eye with your eye, and my tongue would come down with a bad case of your melodious speech. If the world were mine, I'd give it all up – everything except Demetrius – to be you. Oh, teach me how you look the way you do, and what tricks you used to make Demetrius fall in love with you."

America grimaced and said, "I frown at him, but he still loves me."

"Oh, if only my smiles could inspire love as your frowns!"

"I curse him, but he loves me."

"If only my prayers could inspire that kind of affection!"

"The more I hate him, the more he follows me around."

"The more I love him, the more he hates me."

"It's not my fault he acts like that, Made – Helena."

"That's true, it's your beauty's fault. I wish I had a fault like that!"

"Don't worry," America said, now putting on a forced smile as she held England's arm, making a light tint appear on his cheeks. "He won't see me ever again. Lysander and I are running away! Before I saw him, Athens seemed like paradise, but he is so handsome that he's turned Heaven into Hell!"

England looked at Canada and said, "Helena, we'll tell you our secret plan. Tomorrow night, when the moon shines on the water and decorates the grass with tiny beads of pearly light (the time of night that always hides runaway lovers), we plan to sneak out of Athens."

America spoke up. "In the woods where you and I used to lounge around on the pale primroses, telling each other secrets – that's where Lysander and I will meet. From that point on we'll turn our backs on Athens. We'll search for new friends and keep the company of strangers. Goodbye, old friend! Pray for us, and I hope you win over Demetrius! Keep your promise, Lysander. We need to stay away from each other until midnight tomorrow."

"I will, my Hermia," said England. America left, leaving England with Canada.

"Goodbye, Helena. I hope Demetrius comes to love you as much as you love him!"

He left Canada standing alone in the middle of the room.

"It's amazing," sighed Canada, "how much happier some people are than others! People throughout Athens think I'm as beautiful as Hermia. But so what? Demetrius doesn't think so, and that's all that matters. He refuses to admit what everyone else knows. But even though he's making a mistake by obsessing over Hermia so much, I'm also making a mistake, since I obsess over him. Love can make worthless things beautiful. When we're in love, we don't see with our eyes but with our minds. That's why paintings of Cupid, god of love, always show him as blind. And love doesn't have good judgment either – Cupid has wings and no eyes, so he's bound to be reckless and hasty. That's why they say love is a child, because it makes such bad choices. Just as boys like to play games by telling lies, Cupid breaks his promises all the time. Before Demetrius ever saw Hermia, he showered me with promises and swore he'd be mine forever."

At the end of this monologue, there was a brief silence, followed by a smattering of applause. Canada blushed and scurried out of the room.


	3. The 'Actors' Meet And Discuss

"Nordic countries and Scotland, please take your places – it's your turn."

The actors gathered in the middle and began to speak.

Norway, as Quince, looked around and asked, "Is everyone here?"

Denmark (Bottom) said cheerfully, "You should call their names one at a time in the order they appear on the paper."

Norway said, "This is a list of the names of all the men in Athens who are good enough to act in the play we're going to perform for the duke and duchess on their wedding night."

"First, Peter Quince, tell us what the play is about, then read the names of the actors, then shut up."

Norway glared at Denmark and said, "All right. Our play is called _A Very Tragic Comedy About the Horrible Deaths of Pyramus and Thisbe._"

"Let me tell you, it's a great piece of work, and very funny. Now, Quince, call the names of the actors on the list. Men, gather 'round him."

"Nick Bottom, the weaver?"

"Here. Tell me what part I am to play and go on."

"You are set down for Pyramus."

"Who's Pyramus – a lover or a tyrant?"

"Pyramus is a lover who nobly kills himself for love."

"I'll have to cry to make my performance believable," said Denmark determinedly. "And as soon as I start crying, the audience had better watch out, because they'll start crying too. I'll make tears pour out of their eyes like rainstorms. I'll moan very believably – name the other actors." As Norway opened his mouth, Denmark continued, "But I'm really in the mood to play a tyrant. I could do a great job with Hercules, or any other part that requires ranting and raving. I would rant and rave really well. Like this, listen:

_The raging rocks_

_ And shivering shocks_

_ Will break the locks_

_ Of prison gates._

_ And the sun-god's car_

_ Will shine from far_

_ Away, and make and mar_

_ Foolish fate._

That was truly inspired! Now tell us who the other actors are." Before Norway could speak, Denmark added, "By the way, my performance just now was in the style of Hercules, the tyrant style. A lover would have to be weepier, of course."

Norway muttered something unintelligible and read, "Francis Flute, the bellows-repairman?"

Finland smiled and said, "Here, Peter Quince!"

"Flute, you are playing Thisbe."

"And who is Thisbe? A knight on a quest?" said Finland eagerly.

"Thisbe is the lady Pyramus is in love with."

Finland frowned. "No, please don't make me play a woman – I'm growing a beard."

There was a pause while everyone stared at Finland's clearly smooth chin.

"That doesn't matter," said Norway finally. "You'll wear a mask, and you can make your voice as high as you want to."

Denmark spoke up. "In that case, if I can wear a mask, let me be Thisbe as well! First I'll say: "Thisbe, Thisbe!" Then in falsetto: "Ah, Pyramus, my dear lover!"

"No. You're Pyramus, and Flute, you're Thisbe."

"Carry on, then."

Norway looked at the paper and said, "Robin Starveling, the tailor?"

Iceland said quietly, "Here, Peter Quince."

"You are to play Thisbe's mother. Tom Snout, the handyman?"

"H're," muttered Sweden.

"You'll play Pyramus' father – I am to play Thisbe's father. Snug, the cabinetmaker, you'll be the lion. That's everyone – I hope the play is well cast."

Scotland asked, "Do you have the lion's part written down? Please give it to me, for it can take me a long time to learn things."

He glared at England and muttered, "I'll get you for that."

"You can improvise the whole thing – it's just roaring."

Once again Denmark spoke: "Let me be the lion too. I'll roar so well that it'll be an inspiration to anyone who hears me. I'll roar so well that the duke will say, 'Let him roar again.'."

"If you roar too ferociously, you'd scare the duchess and ladies and make them scream. And that would get you executed."

There was a general murmur of 'Yeah, all of us would be hanged.'

"Well, that's no problem. I'll simply soften my voice – I'll roar like a baby dove, or the sweet nightingale."

"No!" exclaimed Norway. "You are playing only Pyramus. For you see, Pyramus is a handsome man, the most handsome one you could find on a summer's day, a really lovely chivalrous man. Therefore, you're the only one to play him."

"Well then," said Denmark, puffing up his chest, "I'll do it. What sort of beard should I wear?"

"Whatever you want."

"I shall play the part wearing a straw-colored beard, a sandy beard, a red beard, or one of those bright yellow beards that's the color of a French coin."

"Some French people don't have beards at all, so you might have to play the part clean-shaven." France rubbed his own stubble at this. "Now, gentlemen, here are your scripts – please learn them by tomorrow night. We'll meet in the forest a mile outside of town. If we rehearse in the city, everyone will find out the plot of our play. Meanwhile, I'll gather the props we need for the play. Now make sure you show up, all of you. Don't leave me alone."

"We'll be there," promised Denmark, "And we'll rehearse courageously and wonderfully."

"We'll meet at the giant oak tree in the forest."

"Be there, or don't show your face again." They left the middle of the room to very little applause.


	4. The King Of The Ass Fairies

"What I want to know," complained America as she sat in the circle with the other nations, "is why none of the Nordics who have to play girls in that stupid play have to take gender potions."

"Because," said England calmly, sitting down as well, "it's part of the original play."

America turned her head and pouted.

"So I thought that we could decide the cast for the second Act now. So for the mischievous spirit, Puck…" he looked around. "Sealand! I know you're here! Come on out!"

There was a moment of silence before Sealand popped out by moving a ceiling tile. "How'd you know I was here, Jerk England?"

"Never mind that, would you like to participate in the play?"

"Really? Does that mean I'm a real country?"

"No. But you get to do something that real countries are doing."

"Sweet!" the child dropped from the ceiling with a rope and sat with everyone else.

"You'll be playing Puck."

"Oh, yeah, I think I've heard of him."

"Now, there's a very minor part of a faery talking to Puck. She doesn't appear again. Anyone want to play her?"

"I will!" piped up Taiwan.

"The next part is the king of the faeries, Oberon. Does anyone-?"

"I nominate Austria!" yelled Prussia.

Austria looked at Prussia in a condescending way and straightened his glasses. "I will play the part, Prussia, not because you told me to, but because I want to."

While England was writing this down, France leaned over and whispered "Prussia, why'd you want Austria to do it?"

"He's the perfect part, since he's the king of the ass fairies already."

The two covered up their smiles.

"What about Austria's wife, Titania?"

Hungary spoke up. "I'll play that, England." She smiled at Austria, who didn't look at her. Her smile dropped and she looked at the floor sadly.

"In Scene 2, there are two faeries singing their queen to sleep."

"Ooh! Ooh!" cried Italy, waving his hand. "I want to do one!"

"Big brother," said Liechtenstein, looking up at him, "do you mind if I am the other fairy?"

"I… I suppose not."

"Then that's all," said England. "Please look over your parts, actors, and be ready for tomorrow."

* * *

**WAHAHAHAHA! I TAUNT YOU ALL WITH A SHORT CHAPTER! HAHAHA - OW MY RIBS!**


	5. The Faeries Argue And Plot

"Action!" exclaimed England.

"Do you have to say that every time?" muttered America.

"No, I just like doing it."

Sealand (as Puck) and Taiwan (as the faery) approached each other.

Sealand smiled and said, "Hello, spirit! Where are you going?"

Taiwan said, "Over hill, over dale, thorough bush, thorough brier, over park, over pale, thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander everywhere, swifter than the moon's sphere. And I serve the faery queen to dew her orbs upon the green. The cowslips tall her pensioners be; in their gold coats spots you see. Those be rubies, faery favors; in those freckles live their savors. I must go seek some dewdrops here and hang a pear in every cowslip's ear. Goodbye, you dumb old spirit. I've got to go. The queen and her elves will come soon."

Sealand responded, "The king's having a party here tonight. Just make sure the queen doesn't come anywhere near him. He's furious because she stole an adorable boy from an Indian king. She's never kidnapped such a darling human child before, and Oberon's jealous. He wants the child for himself, to accompany him on his wanderings through the wild forests. But the queen refuses to hand the boy over to Oberon. Instead, she puts flowers in the boy's hair and makes a fuss over him. Now Oberon and Titania refuse to speak to each other, or meet each other anywhere – neither in the forest nor on the plain, nor by the river nor under the stars. They always argue, and the little faeries get so frightened that they hide in acorn cups and won't come out.

Taiwan frowned. "Unless I'm mistaken, you're that mischievous and naughty spirit named Puck. Aren't you the one who goes around scaring the maidens in the village, stealing the cream from the top of the milk, screwing up the flour mills, and frustrating housewives by keeping their milk from turning into butter? Aren't you the one who keeps beer from foaming up as it should—"

There was a theatric gasp from the side of the room. Everyone turned to see Prussia pointing a finger at Sealand. "So it was you… I'll get you for that, runt. Just you wait."

They all stared at him a moment longer before Taiwan continued.

"—from foaming up as it should, and causes people to get lost at night, while you laugh at them? Some people call you 'Hobgoblin', and 'Sweet Puck', and you're nice to them. You do their work for them and give them good luck. That's you, right?"

"No."

"SEALAND!"

"Fine… what you say is true. That's me you're talking about, the playful wanderer of the night. I tell jokes to Oberon and make him smile. I'll trick a fat, well-fed horse into thinking that I'm a young female horse. Sometimes I hide at the bottom of an old woman's drink disguised as an apple. When she takes a sip, I bob up against the her lips and make her spill the drink all over her withered old neck. Sometimes a wise old woman with a sad story to tell tries to sit down on me, thinking I'm a three-legged stool. But I slip from underneath her and she falls down, crying 'Ow, my butt!' and starts coughing, and then everyone laughs and has fun. But step aside, faery! Here comes Oberon."

"And here is my mistress, Titania. I wish he'd go away!"

Austria and Hungary entered from opposite sides of the room.

The former looked down on her, adjusted his glasses, and said coolly, "Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania."

Hungary tossed her head and replied, "What, are you jealous, Oberon? I've sworn to never speak with you again."

"Wait just a minute, you hussy," he said coldly. "Aren't you supposed to obey me, your lord and husband?"

"If you're my lord and husband, I must be your lady and wife, so you're supposed to be faithful to me." She retorted. "But I know for a fact that you snuck away from Faeryland disguised as a shepherd, and spent all day playing straw pipes and singing love poems to your now girlfriend. The only reason you left India was to come here and see that butch Amazon Hippolyta. She was your boot-wearing mistress and your warrior lover, and now that she's getting married to Theseus, you've come to celebrate their marriage."

"How can you stand there shamelessly talking about me and Hippolyta, when you know that I know about your love for Theseus? Weren't you the one whe made him desert Perigouna in the middle of the night, right after he'd raped her? And weren't you the one who made him cheat on all of his other girlfriends, like Aegles, Ariadne, and Antiopa?"

"These are nothing but jealous lies. Since the beginning of midsummer, my faeries and I haven't been able to meet anywhere to do our dances in the wind without being disturbed by you and your arguments. We haven't been able to meet on a hill or in a valley, in the forest or a meadow, by a pebbly fountain or a rushing stream, or on the beach by the ocean without you disturbing us. And because you interrupt us so that we can't dance for them, the winds have made fogs rise up out of the sea and fall down on the rivers so that the rivers flood, just to get revenge on you. So all the work that oxen and farmers have done in plowing the fields has been for nothing, because the unripe grain has rotted before it was ripe. Sheep pens are empty in the middle of the flooded fields, and the cows get fat from eating the dead bodies of infected sheep. All the fields where people usually play games are filled with mud, and you can't even see the elaborate mazes that people create in the grass, because no one walks in them anymore and they've all grown over. It's not winter here for the human mortals, so they're not protected by the holy hymns and carols that they sing in winter. So the pale, angry moon, who controls the tides, fills the air with diseases. As a consequence of this bad weather and these bad moods the seasons have started to change. Cold frosts spread over the red roses, and the icy winter wears a crown of sweet summer flowers as some sick joke. Spring, summer, fertile autumn and angry winter have all changed places, and now the confused world doesn't know which is which. And this is all because of our argument. We are responsible for this."

There was a short silence as Austria allowed Hungary to catch her breath.

"Do something about it, then." He responded. "You have the power to fix it. Why would Titania want to argue with her Oberon? All I'm asking for is to have that little human boy as part of my crew."

"Get over it. I won't give up this child for all of Faeryland. His mother was one of my worshippers, and we always used to gossip together at night in India, sitting together by the ocean and watching the merchant ships sailing in the ocean. We used to laugh to see the sails fill up with wind so that they looked like they had big, pregnant bellies, as if the wind had gotten them pregnant. She would imitate them – since she was already pregnant with the little boy – and she would go sailing over the land herself to go get me little presents, and come back carrying gifts like she was a ship coming back from a voyage. But since she was a mortal, she died giving birth to that boy, and for her sake I'm raising him and will not give him up."

"How long do you plan to stay here in this forest?"

"Maybe until after Theseus' wedding day. If you behave yourself and join us in our circle dance and moonlight celebrations, then you can come with us. If not, leave me alone, and I'll stay away."

"Give me the boy and I'll come."

"Not for your entire kingdom. Come, let us go. We're going to have a brawl if I stay any longer." Hungary and Taiwan left.

Austria watched her leave. "Well," he said to himself, "go on your way, then. You won't leave this grove until I've paid you back for this insult. My dear Puck, come here." He beckoned Sealand. "You remember the time when I was sitting on a cliff, and I heard a mermaid sitting on a dolphin's back sing such a sweet and harmonious song that it calmed the stormy sea and made stars shoot out of the sky so they could hear her better?"

"Yes, I remember."

"That same night, I saw Cupid flying from the moon to the Earth, with all of his arrows ready. He took aim at a beautiful young virgin who was sitting on a throne in the western part of the world, and he shot his arrow of love well enough to have pierced a hundred thousand hearts. But I could see that Cupid's fiery arrow was put out by watery, virginal moonbeams, so the royal virgin continued her pure thoughts without being interrupted by thoughts of love. But I paid attention to where Cupid's arrow fell. It fell on a little western flower, which used to be white as milk but now has turned purple from being wounded by the arrow of love. Young girls call it 'love-in-idleness'. Bring me that flower. I showed it to you once. If its juice is put on someone's eyelids while they're asleep, that person will fall in love with the next living creature he or she sees. Bring me this plant, and get back here before the sea monster has time to swim three miles."

Sealand grinned cheekily and said, "I could go 'round the world in forty minutes." He left Austria alone.

Austria said to himself, "When I have the juice of that flower, I'll trickle some drops of it on Titania's eyes while she's sleeping. She'll fall madly in love with the first thing she sees when she wakes up – even if it's a lion, a bear, a wolf, a bull, a monkey, or an ape. And before I make her normal again, I'll make her give me that little boy as my page. But who's that coming this way? I'll make myself invisible and listen to their conversation." He stepped slightly to the side to allow Canada and Prussia through.

Prussia glared at Canada and said, "Look, I don't love you, so stop following me around. Where are Lysander and beautiful Hermia? Lysander I want to stop, but Hermia stops my heart from beating. You told me they escaped into this forest. And here I am, going crazy in the middle of the woods because I can't find my Hermia. Go away, get out of here, stop following me!"

"You attract me, you cruel magnet! But you must not attract iron, because my heart is as true as steel. If you let go of your power to attract me, I'll follow you no longer."

"Do I ask you to follow me? Do I speak to you kindly? Don't I tell you in the clearest terms that I do not and cannot love you?"

"Yes, but that makes me love you even more," said Canada sadly. "I'm your little dog, Demetrius—" at this line both nations blushed. "The more you beat me, the more I'll love you. Treat me like you would a dog – kick me, hit me, neglect me, try to lose me. Just let me follow behind you, even though I'm not good enough for you. Could I ask for a worse place in your heart than to be treated like a dog? And yet I would consider it an honor to be your dog."

By the end of this, both Canada and Prussia's face were bright red, Canada's especially.

"Don't push it," said Prussia, turning away. "Just looking at you makes me sick."

"And I get sick when I can't look at you."

"You're risking your reputation by leaving the city and stalking someone who doesn't love you. Standing around alone in a deserted area in the middle of the night isn't the best way to protect your virginity."

"I rely on your virtue to protect me. And because I can see your shining face, it doesn't feel like nighttime to me. This forest doesn't seem deserted when you're here, because you are all the world to me. So how can anyone say I'm alone, when the whole world is here to look at me?"

Prussia glared again and said, "I'll run away from you. I'll hide in the bushes and leave you to the mercy of the wild animals."

"The wildest animal isn't as cruel as you are. Run whenever you want to. The story of Daphne and Apollo will be changed: Apollo flees from the virginal nymph Daphno who pursues him, the dove chases after the griffin, which is usually its predator, and the gentle deer tries to hunt down the tiger – speed is useless when the coward chases and the brave flees."

"I'm not sticking around to listen to you any longer. Leave me alone. Or if you follow me, you'd better understand that I'll do something bad to you in the wood."

"Yes, you've already hurt me in the church, in the town, in the fields. For shame, Demetrius! Your behavior is an insult to womankind. We cannot fight for love as men can. We should be pursued and courted. We weren't made to do the pursuing."

Prussia rolled his eyes and stalked off.

Canada looked after him. "I'll follow you and turn this hell I'm in into heaven. It would be wonderful to be killed by the hand of the man I love." She followed him.

Austria watched them go. "Goodbye, nymph. Before he leaves this part of the forest, you'll change places. You'll be the one running away, and he'll be chasing you."

Sealand came back to Austria.

"Do you have the flower?"

"Yes, here it is."

Austria took the flower from him. "I know a place where wild thyme blooms, and oxlips and violets grow. It's covered over with luscious honeysuckle, sweet muskroses and sweetbrier. Titania sleeps there sometimes at night lulled to sleep among the flowers by dances and other delights. Snakes shed their skin there, and the shed skin is wide enough to wrap a faery in. I'll put the juice of this flower on Titania's eyes, and fill her with horrible delusions and desires. You take some of it, too—" he gave Sealand part of the petal. "—and look around this part of the forest. A sweet Athenian lady is in love with a young man who wants nothing to do with her. Put some of this flower's juice on his eyes, and make sure to do it in such a way that the next thing he sees will be the lady. You'll be able to tell it's him because he's wearing Athenian clothing. Do it carefully, so that he'll end up loving her more than she loves him. And then make sure to meet me before the rooster's first crow at dawn."

Sealand gave a mock bow and said, "Don't worry, sir. I am at your service."

Both left to much applause from the sides.


	6. The Lovers Are Mixed Up

England spoke up before the next scene. "There are four minor parts of faeries in the scene after this – does anyone want those parts? I can give you the scripts now and you can look them over while this scene is going on."

"Me and Romano," said Spain immediately. Romano glowered at him but didn't protest.

"My brother and I can take the other two parts," said Belgium, smiling at Netherlands. He glowered but didn't protest. England looked at them uncertainly before handing them their scripts.

Hungary came back into the room with Italy and Liechtenstein. She lied down on the floor and said, "Come, dance in a circle and sing a faery song, and then go off for a while to do your work. Some of you will kill the worms infesting the rosebuds, some of you will fight with bats to get their leathery wings, so we can make coats for my small elves. Some of you will keep that loud owl away, the one that hoots and wonders every night at us dainty faeries. Sing me to sleep now, and then go off to do your duties and let me rest."

Italy and Liechtenstein sang:

"_You spotted snakes with double tongue,_

_ Thorny hedgehogs not be seen._

_ Newts and blindworms, do no wrong._

_ Come not near our faery queen._

_ Philomel, with melody, _

_ Sing in our sweet lullaby._

_Lulla, lulla, lullaby,_

_ Lulla, lulla, lullaby,_

_Never harm_

_ Nor spell nor charm_

_ Come our lovely lady nigh._

_ So good night with lullaby._

_ Weaving spiders, come not here._

_ Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence!_

_ Beetles black, approach not near._

_ Worm nor snail, do no offense._

_ Philomel, with melody,_

_ Sing in our sweet lullaby._

_Lulla, lulla, lullaby,_

_ Lulla, lulla, lullaby,_

_Never harm_

_ Nor spell nor charm_

_ Come our lovely lady nigh._

_ So good night with lullaby._"

Hungary fell asleep (along with everyone else, lulled by the song, unnoticed by the singers). "Okay!" said Italy happily. "Let's go, everything's fine." They turned to find everyone in the room sleeping. Liechtenstein put a finger on her lips, indicating that Italy should stay quiet, and tiptoed to Austria. "Mr. Austria…" she whispered, shaking him gently. "Mr. Austria, it's your part…"

Austria blinked his eyes opened and yawned – it was a very dainty yawn, of course. He took in the scene around him and seemed to understand immediately what had happened. Walking over to the slumbering Hungary, he pretended to squeeze something on her eyelids.

"Whatever you see first when you awake, think of it as your true love. Love him and yearn for him, even if he's a lynx, a cat, a bear, a leopard, or a wild boar. Whatever's there when you awake will be dear to you. Wake when some vile thing is nearby." He walked away and sat down, only to get up again to shake America and England awake when he realized that Italy and Liechtenstein weren't going to do it.

America and England awoke with a start. They glanced around, and, like Austria, seemed to realize what had transpired. They crept to the center of the room next to the sleeping Hungary.

England said, "My love, you look like you're about to faint from wandering in the woods. To tell you the truth, I believe I've gotten us lost. Let us rest, if it's alright with you, and wait until day; things will be easier then."

"Let's do that, Lysander. Find something to cushion you while you sleep; I'm going to rest my head on this slope."

"We can both sleep together on the grass," offered England. "We'll have one heart, one bed, two bodies, and one faithful vow."

"No, Lysander. For my sake, please, sleep a little farther away. Don't sleep so close to me."

"Oh, sweetheart, I didn't mean anything naughty when I said that. When lovers talk to each other, their hearts should understand each other. I just meant that our hearts are joined, so we can almost think of them as one heart. Our two bodies are linked together by the promises we've made to each other, so there are two bodies and one faithful vow. So let me sleep next to you. If I lie _next_ to you, I won't lie _to_ you – I'll be faithful and respect you."

"You've got a way of words, and it certainly would be rude if I called you a liar. But please, darling, sleep a little farther away so we can behave properly. It's only proper for us to do this at our age. Stay away for now, and good night, my sweet friend. I hope your love for me remains this strong for your entire life!"

England chuckled. "Amen to that. I hope my life ends well before my loyalty to you does. I'll sleep over here. Good night!"

"Good night to you too." They lied down and shut their eyes.

Sealand entered the center, having been awoken gently by Liechtenstein.

"I've been through this entire forest," he grumbled, "but I haven't found any Athenian man to use the flower on. Wait a second, who's this? He's wearing Athenian clothes. This must be the guy who rejected the Athenian girl. And here's the girl, sleeping soundly on the damp and dirty ground. Pretty girl! She shouldn't lie near this rude and heartless man." As Austria did with Hungary, he pretended to squeeze something onto England's eyelids. "Jerk England—"

"_Sealand…_"

"Fine… Jerk! I throw all the power of this magic charm on your eyes. When you wake up, let love keep you from falling asleep again. Wake up when I'm gone, for I must return to Oberon." He left.

Austria and Sealand then both helped awake Canada and Prussia, whose heads had fallen onto each others. When they woke up and realized this, they started and jerked their heads back. After a quick 'you're on,' from Austria, they scurried to the center of the room. Canada said, "Stop, Demetrius! Stop, even if only to kill me!"

"I'm telling you, leave and quit following me!"

"Oh, will you leave me alone in the dark? Please don't!"

"Stay here at your own risk. I'm going ahead." He left Canada alone in the middle.

"Oh," she sighed, "I am out of breath from this foolish chase. The more I pray, the less I get out of it. Hermia is lucky, wherever she is, because she has beautiful eyes. How did her eyes get go bright? Not from crying, that's for sure. If that were the case, my eyes get washed by tears more often than hers. No, no, I'm as ugly as a bear, since animals that see me run away in terror. So it's no surprise that Demetrius runs away from me as if I were a monster. What evil and deceitful mirror tricked me into thinking that I could rival Hermia's starry eyes? But… who's this here? Lysander? Is he dead, or just asleep? I don't see any blood or injuries… Lysander, if you're alive, awake."

England sat up and widened his eyes at the sight of Canada. "I'd even run through fire if you told me to. Radiant, beautiful Helena! I feel like Mother Nature has allowed me to see into your heart, as if by magic. Where is Demetrius? Oh, I'd kill that name with my sword if I could!"

Canada looked shocked, then sad. "Oh, don't say that, Lysander. Don't say that. Why do you care that he loves Hermia? What does it matter? Hermia still loves you, so be happy."

"Happy with Hermia? No. I regret all the boring time I wasted with her. I don't love Hermia, I love you. Who wouldn't love a dove more than a crow? A man's desires are influenced by his logical mind, and it's simply logical that you're more worthy of love than Hermia. Fruits and vegetables don't ripen until the right season of the year. Likewise, I'm young, and my sense of reason has just ripened. I finally see the light. My logic has more control over my desires than it used to, and it's telling me to look into your eyes, where I see every love story that's ever been said."

Canada's expression changed from sadness to anger. "Why does everyone always make fun of me? What have I done to deserve this treatment? Is it not enough that I'll never be pretty enough for Demetrius? Do you have to harp on my inadequacy? My God, it's wrong for you to woo me in such a cruel, disdainful way. But goodbye. I have to tell you, I thought you were much kinder than this. Oh, how awful that a lady who's been rejected by one man should therefore be treated horribly by another!" She ran off in a huff.

England said to himself, "She doesn't see Hermia – Hermia, keep sleeping, and don't come near me ever again! Eating too many sweets makes people sick to their stomachs, and people always hate the mistakes they made in the past worse than anyone else hates those mistakes. Hermia, you're the sweet I've had too much of, and the mistake I used to make, so I hate you more than anything. I'll use all my talents and effort to honor Helena and be her knight." He ran after her.

America pretended to wake, crying, "Help me, Lysander, help me! Get this snake off of my chest. Oh, my God! What a terrible dream I just had! Lysander, look how I'm shaking from fear. I thought a snake was eating my heart, and you just sat and watched and smiled. Oh… Lysander, where are you? Lysander, my lord! Is he already out of earshot? Gone? No answer! Oh, God, where are you? Say something if you can hear me! Say something! I'm going to faint with fear! Nothing? All right, I'm going to find you or die trying!" She ran out of the middle of the room, leaving Austria to wake the rest of the cast while Italy stared curiously at America – not stopping at the sides, but fleeing to the bathroom.


	7. The Nordics Run Away

America took a deep breath in front of the sink, trying to steady her whirling emotions.

_Calm down. It doesn't even matter. He didn't mean anything by saying he hated me. He was just acting; it was just in the script._

_ So why does it hurt so much?_

* * *

England was staring at the ground, sorting out his thoughts.

_Why… was it so hard to say those things to her? I didn't mean it. She knows that, right? I don't really hate her…_

_ So why do I feel so guilty?_

* * *

Prussia glowered at England, who was staring at the ground, apparently lost in thought.

_This feeling… I want to kill that British bastard. Why? Because he said he loves Canada? This feeling… is it jealousy? But I don't really love her, right?_

_ So why does it make me so mad?_

* * *

England snapped himself out of it in time to see America coming back from the bathroom, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve. He watched her for a moment, concerned, until she spotted him looking and turned her head in a huff.

"Um…" he said. "On to the next scene, then?"

The Nordic countries and Scotland gathered in the middle of the room next to the sleeping Hungary (seeing as she was meant to be asleep for this scene, Austria hadn't bothered to wake her). Denmark cleared his throat, grinned, and said, "Are we all here, then?"

Norway nodded. "Right on time. And this is the perfect place for our rehearsal. This clearing is the stage, and this hawthorn bush will be our dressing room. We should put it on as we will for the king."

Denmark frowned. "Peter Quince—there are things in this comedy of Pyramus and Thisbe that will never work. First off, Pyramus has to take out a sword to commit suicide, and the ladies will not be able to stand that. What should we do?"

"Th't's a pr'bl'm," said Sweden.

"Come to think of it, we may have to leave out all of the killing," said Iceland regretfully.

Denmark wagged a finger with a smile. "Not at all! I've a plan that will fix everything. Write me a prologue that I can say before the play starts. I'll explain that we won't hurt anyone with our swords, and that Pyramus isn't actually dead. In fact, we should tell them that I'm playing Pyramus but I'm not really Pyramus – I'm actually Bottom the weaver. That'll keep them from being afraid."

Norway sighed. "All right, we'll have a prologue then. We can write it like a ballad, in eight and six syllable lines—"

"No, make it eight and eight." Norway glared at Denmark.

Sweden mumbled, "W''ldn't the l'd'es b' sc'red 'f the l'on?"

Iceland nodded and said, "I'm very worried about that."

Denmark spoke up once again. "Sirs, you ought to think to yourself, bringing in – God forbid! – a lion amongst ladies is really terrible. There's no scarier wild bird than the living ion, and we should remember that."

"So w' n''d 'n'ther pr'l'gue t' t'll 'v'ry'ne th't h''s n't a l'on."

"No, we can just announce the actor's name, and let his face show through the lion costume, and have him say something himself. He should say the following, or something else like it – 'Ladies,' or 'Lovely ladies,' 'I would like to ask you' or 'I would like to request of you' or 'I would like to beg you' 'not to be afraid, and not to tremble with fear. I value your lives as highly as my own. If you thought I was a real lion, I would be risking my life. But no, I am not at all a lion. I am a man, just like other men.' And then he should say his name, and tell them plainly that he's Snug the carpenter."

"All right, we'll do that," said Norway, putting a hand to his temple. "But there are two things we still have to figure out. How are we going to bring moonlight into a room? Because, you know, Pyramus and Thisbe meet by moonlight."

"W'll the m'on b' sh'n'ng 'n the n'ght w're p'rf'rm'ng the pl'y?"

"We need a calendar. Hurry, check an almanac! Look up moonshine, look up moonshine!"

Norway took out a book (it was actually a dictionary) and flipped through it, saying "Yes, the moon will shine that night."

"Well then, you can leave a window open to let the moonlight in."

"Yes, or someone can declare themselves as representing the moon by carrying a lantern. But there's one other problem: Pyramus and Thisbe talk through a crack in a wall, so we need a wall on the stage."

"W' c'n't br'ng 'n a w'll. Wh't d' y'u th'nk, B'tt'm?"

"Someone should play the Wall. He can have some plaster or clay or limestone on him to show he's a wall. He can hold his fingers in a V-shape – like this – and the lovers can whisper through the crack."

Norway clapped his hands twice. "If we can do that, everything will be well. Now sit down, everyone, and rehearse your parts – Pyramus, you start. When you have said your lines, go hide in that bush. – Everyone else, go there too when you're not onstage."

Sealand came in quietly. "Who are these country bumpkins swaggering around so close to where the faery queen is sleeping? What? Are they about to put on a play? I'll watch. And act, if I feel like it." He sat on the ground.

Norway cleared his throat and said, "Speak, Pyramus. Thisbe, come forward."

Denmark, playing Pyramus, said "Thisbe, flowers with sweet odious smells—"

"Odors, man, odors."

"—odors and smells are like your breath, my dearest Thisbe dear. But what's that, a voice! Wait here a while. I'll be right back!" He left. Sealand muttered, "That's the strangest Pyramus I've ever seen…" he followed Denmark offstage.

"Am I supposed to talk now?" said Finland.

"Yes, you are. You're supposed to show that you understand that Pyramus just went to check on a noise he heard and is coming right back."

Finland spoke in falsetto: "Most radiant Pyramus, you are as white as a lily, and the color of a red rose on a splendid rosebush, a very lively young man and also a lovely Jew. You are as reliable as a horse that never tires. I'll meet you, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb."

"That's 'Ninus' grave,' man," scolded Norway. "And don't say all of that yet. You're supposed to say some of it as a reply to Pyramus. You just said all your lines at once, cues and all. Pyramus, enter. You missed your cue. It's 'never tires'."

"Oh! …as reliable as a horse that never tires."

Sealand came in with Denmark, who was sporting a donkey's head (a mask that England had quickly shoved onto his head). "If I were handsome, my lovely Thisbe, I would still want only you."

"Help!" yelled Norway, throwing his hands up. "It's a monster! We are haunted! Run away!" The cast fled except for Denmark.

Sealand said, "I'll follow you. I'll run you around in circles, through bogs and bushes and woods and thorns. Sometimes I'll take the shape of a horse, sometimes I'll take the shape of a hound or a pig or a headless bear. Sometimes I'll turn into fire! And I'll neigh like a horse and bark like a hound and grunt like a pig and roar like a bear and burn like fire at every turn." He followed the actors out.

"Why are they running away?" said Denmark, seemingly oblivious to the donkey's head. "Is this some joke?"

Sweden came back. "B'tt'm, y'uve ch'nged. Wh't've y'u g't 'n y'ur h'ad?"

"What is it?" said Denmark, annoyed. "You're acting like an ass, don't you think?"

Sweden backed away again, to be replaced by Norway. He smirked and said, "God bless you, Bottom. You've been changed. Reborn." He left again.

Denmark huffed, "I see what they're up to. They want to make an ass of me; scare me if they can. But I won't leave this spot, no matter what they do. I'll walk up and down and sing a song, so they'll know I'm not afraid.

_The ouzel cock, so black of hue_

_ With orange-tawny bill,_

_ The throstle with its note so true,_

_ The wren with little quill—_"

Hungary, awakened by Denmark's terrible singing, looked around sleepily. Austria knelt down and whispered something to her. Her expression cleared.

"What angel is this who's waking me from my flowery bed?"

"_—the finch, the sparrow, and the lark,_

_ The plainsong cuckoo gray,_

_ Whose note full many a man doth mark_

_ And dares not answer 'Nay'—_

Of course they don't say 'no'! Who'd waste his time talking to such a stupid bird? Who'd bother to accuse a bird of lying, even if the bird were telling him that his wife was cheating on him?"

Hungary smiled at him and said, "Please sing again, sweet human. I love to listen to your voice, and I love to look at your body. I know this is the first time I've ever seen you, but you are so wonderful that I can't help swearing my love to you."

"I don't think you've got much of a reason to love me. But to tell the truth, reason and love have very little to do with each other these days. It's too bad some mutual friend of theirs doesn't introduce them. Ha! I'm just kidding."

Hungary sighed, "Your wisdom matches your beauty."

"No, that's untrue. If I could get out of this forest, I'd be wise enough to satisfy myself."

"Don't bother wishing you could leave this forest, because you're going to stay here whether you want to or not. I'm no ordinary faery. I rule over the summer, and I love you. So come with me. I'll give you faeries as servants, and they'll bring you jewels from the depths of the ocean, and sing to you while you sleep on a bed of flowers. And I'll turn you into a spirit like us, so that you will never die. Come, Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, and Mustardseed!"

The Tomato Quartet entered the room, Romano and Netherlands looking grumpy, Spain and Belgium cheerful.

"Ready!" said Spain.

"Me too," grumbled Romano.

"Me too!" exclaimed Belgium.

"And me too," muttered Netherlands.

"Where should we go?" they chorused.

Hungary gestured to Denmark (who, you remember, still had the donkey's head on him). "Be kind and polite to this gentleman. Follow him around. Leap and dance for him. Feed him apricots and blackberries, with purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries. Steal honey from the bumblebees, and make candles out of the wax. Light them with the light of glowworms, so my love will have light when he goes to bed and wakes up. Pluck off colorful butterfly wings, and use them to fan moonbeams away from his eyes as he sleeps. Bow to him, faeries, and curtsy."

"Hello, mortal!"

"Hello,"

"Hello!"

"Hello,"

"I beg your pardon—please tell me your names?"

Romano reluctantly stepped forward. "Cobweb."

"I'd like to get to know you better, Mr. Cobweb. If I cut my finger, I'll use you as a bandage to stop the bleeding. And your name, sir?"

"Peaseblossom!" said Spain.

"Please, give my regards to your mother, Mrs. Peapod, and your father, Mr. Peapod. Good Mr. Peaseblossom, I'd also like to get to know you better. And your name, sir?"

"Mustardseed," muttered Netherlands.

"Good Mr. Mustardseed, I know you very well. Those cowardly, gigantic sides of beef have been responsible for many of your family members getting eaten as a condiment on beef. I swear to you, many members of your family have made my eyes water. I look forward to getting to know you better, Mr. Mustardseed."

"Take good care of him," instructed Hungary. "Take him to my sleeping area. The moon looks sad to me. When she cries, all of the little flowers cry too. They're sad because someone isn't having sex. Keep my lover quiet. Bring him to me in silence."

They left to the sides with muttering and snickers at Hungary's lines. She grumbled to herself, "I can't believe I have to pretend to love _him_."

Austria had been watching Hungary shower Denmark with love lines, and for some reason it had made his blood boil. _Stop, _he thought. _Stop feeling these things. You and she broke up long ago. It's over…_

_ So why do I feel so jealous_?


	8. The Spirits Set Things Right

Austria came in the makeshift stage. "I wonder if Titania is awake yet… and if she is, I wonder what she is in love with."

Sealand came up next to Austria.

"Ah, here is my messenger – how now, mad spirit? What havoc have you wreaked upon this forest?"

"Mistress Titania is in love with a monster. While she was sleeping in her bed of flowers, a group of bumbling idiots, rough workmen from Athens, got together nearby to rehearse some play they plan to perform on Theseus' wedding day. The stupidest one, who played Pyramus in their play, finished his scene and went to sit in the bushes to wait for his next cue. I took that opportunity to stick a donkey's head on him. When it was time for him to go back onstage and talk to his Thisbe, he came out of the bushes and everyone saw him. His friends ran away as fast as ducks scatter when they hear a hunter's gunshot. One of them was so frightened when he heard my footsteps that he yelled, "Murder!" and called for help from Athens. They were all so afraid that they completely lost their common sense. They started to become scared of inanimate objects, terrified by the thorns and briars that catch at their clothing and pull off their sleeves and hats. I led them on in this frightened, distracted state, and left sweet Pyramus there, transformed into someone with a donkey's head. At that exact moment, Titania woke up and fell in love with the ass."

"Why, this is going better than I had planned," said Austria. "But have you put the love juice from the flower on the eyes of that Athenian, as I have instructed?"

"Yes, I found him when he was asleep," affirmed Sealand, "so that's taken care of too, and the Athenian woman was sleeping near him. When he woke up, he must have seen her."

Just then Prussia and America came in. Austria whispered, "Step aside. Here's the Athenian now."

"That's definitely the woman," Sealand whispered back, "but not the same man."

Prussia was talking to America. "Why are you so rude to someone who loves you so much? Save that language for your enemies."

"I'm only scolding you now," replied America, "but I should treat you much worse, because I'm afraid you've given me good reason to curse you. If you killed Lysander while he slept, then you're already up to your ankles in blood. You might as well jump in a bloodbath and kill me, too. He was more faithful to me than the sun to the daytime. Would he have snuck away from me while I slept? I'll believe that when I believe that there's a hole through the center of the Earth, and that the moon has passed through the other side. The only possibility is that you've murdered him. A murderer should look like you do, so pale and grim."

"That's how someone who's been _murdered_ should look," countered Prussia, "and that's how I look. You've pierced me through the heart with your cruelty, and yet you, the murderer, look as bright and clear as a star in the sky."

"And what does that have to do with Lysander? Where is he? Oh, good Demetrius," she said, her tone changing suddenly, "will you find him for me?"

"I would rather feed his corpse to my dogs."

"Get out, cur!" exclaimed America. "You've driven me to my wit's end. Did you kill him, then? From now on I won't even consider you a human being. Oh, just tell the truth, if only for my sake. Would you have even dared to look at him when he was awake? And did you kill him while he was sleeping? Oh, how brave of you! A snake could do that as easily as you could. And a snake did do it, for no snake ever had a more forked, lying tongue than yours."

"You're getting worked up over nothing," retorted Prussia. "I didn't kill Lysander. As far as we know, he's not even dead!"

"Then please tell me he's alright!"

"If I told you that, what would I gain?"

"The privilege of never seeing me again. And now I'm going to leave your despised company. You'll never see me again, whether Lysander lives or not." She left in a huff.

"I can't go after her when she's in a rage like this," Prussia said to himself, "so I'll stay here for a while. Sadness grows when you lose sleep; therefore, I shall sleep here for a bit." He lied down and closed his eyes, feigning sleep.

Austria angrily turned to Sealand. "What have you done? You've made a mistake and put the love-juice on someone else, someone who was truly in love. Because of your mistake someone's true love must have turned bad, instead of this man's false love being turned true."

"In that case, it must be fate!" said Sealand. "That's the way of the world, after all. For every man who's faithful to his true love, a million end up running after a different lover."

Austria put a hand to his forehead and growled, "Go around the forest, and as fast as you can. Bring me Helena of Athens. She's lovesick, and her face is pale from all the sighing she's done, for sighing is bad for the blood. Bring her here with some trick or illusion, and I'll put the charm on his eyes for when she comes."

"I go, I go. Look how I go, swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow."

Austria knelt and pretended to put something on Prussia's eyelids. "You purple flower, hit by Cupid's arrow, sink into the pupils of this man's eyes. When he sees the girl he should love, make her seem as bright to him as Venus in the night sky. Young man, when you awake, if she's nearby, beg her to remedy your lovesickness."

Sealand came back. "Helena is nearby, my king. The young man who I mistook for this one is there as well, begging her to love him. Should we watch this ridiculous scene? Lord, what fools these mortals be!"

"Step aside," ordered Austria, "and keep it down. The noise they're making shall wake Demetrius."

Canada came in, followed closely by England.

"Why do you think that I'm making fun of you when I proclaim my love for you?" demanded England. "People don't cry when they're mocking someone. When I swear my love to you, I cry, and when someone cries while making a vow, they're usually speaking the truth. How can it seem like I'm taunting you, when my tears are so sincere?"

"Why, you get trickier and trickier," said Canada. "You've made the same promises to me and Hermia – they can't both be true! They must both be false. The promises you're making to me belong to Hermia. Will you abandon her? If you weighed the promises to me against the promises to her, they'd come out the same – they'd weigh nothing, for they are both lies."

"I wasn't thinking clearly when I made those promises to her."

"And I don't believe you're thinking clearly now, as you break those promises."

"Demetrius loves her, not you!"

At his stage name being spoken, Prussia opened his eyes, saw Canada, and knelt down beside her. "Oh Helena, you goddess, you divine and perfect nymph! What can I compare your eyes to? Crystal isn't as clear as they are. Oh, your lips are as ripe as a pair of tempting cherries touching each other! The pure white of the mountain's snow is as black as a crow's wing next to your lovely hands. Oh, let me kiss your beautiful white hand! It would make me so happy!" He made as if to kiss her hand, but Canada slapped him away.

"Damn it!" she swore. "I see you're all determined to gang up on me. If you had any manners at all, you wouldn't treat me like this! Can't you just hate me, as I know you do? Why must you humiliate me as well? If you were real men, as your charade suggests, you wouldn't treat a lady this way, making vows and promises and praising my beauty when I know you're really both disgusted by me. You're competing for Hermia's love, and now you're competing to see which one of you can make fun of me the most. Oh, that's a fantastic idea, really, a really manly thing to do – making a poor girl cry! No respectable person would offend an innocent girl just to have some fun."

"Don't be cruel, Demetrius," chided Lysander. "I know you love Hermia, and you know I know it. Right here, right now, I swear I'm giving up all my claims on her and handing her to you. In exchange, give up your claim to love Helena, since I love her and will love her until I die."

"Nobody's ever gone to so much trouble to make fun of someone," Canada said.

"Lysander, keep your Hermia. I don't want her. If I ever loved her, all that love is gone now. My love for her was temporary. Now I'll love Helena forever."

"Helena, it's not true!"

"Don't insult a deep love that you don't understand, or you'll pay the price. Look, here comes your love now." Prussia pointed to where America was coming in.

"It's hard to see so clearly in the dark of night," she said, "but it's much easier to hear. I couldn't see you, Lysander, but I heard your voice, and that's how I found you. Why did you leave me alone so unkindly?"

"Why stay when love tells you to go?" said England.

"But what love could make you leave my side?"

"I had to hurry to my love, the beauteous Helena, who lights up the night much better than the fiery stars up there. Why are you looking for me? Didn't you figure out that I left because I hate you?"

America held back her tears and whispered, "You can't mean what you're saying. It's impossible."

"So, she's in on this too!" said Canada to herself. "Now I see that all three of them have gotten together to play this cruel trick on me." Turning to America, she said, "Hurtful Hermia, you ungrateful girl, have you conspired with these two to provoke me with this horrid teasing? Have you forgotten all the talks we've had together, the vows we've made to be like sisters to one another, all the hours we spent together, wishing that we never had to say goodbye – have you forgotten? Our friendship in our schooldays, our childhood innocence? We used to sit together and sew one flower with our two needles, sewing it on one piece of cloth, sitting on the same cushion, singing one song in the same key, as if our hands, our sides, our voices and our minds were stuck together. We grew together like twin cherries – which seemed to be separate but also together – two lovely cherries on one stem. We seemed to have two separate bodies, but one heart. Do you want to destroy our old friendship by joining these men to insult your poor friend? It's not friendly, nor ladylike. All women should be angry with you for doing it, even though I am the only one who's being hurt."

"What?" exclaimed America incredulously. "I'm not insulting you! In fact, it feels more like _you're_ insulting _me_!"

"Come on, confess!" Canada pressed. "Didn't you send Lysander, as an insult, to follow me around praising my eyes and face? Haven't you made your other love, Demetrius – who kicked me with his foot not long ago – call me a goddess and a divine, rare, precious, heavenly creature? Why does he talk like that to a girl he can't stand? And why does Lysander deny that he loves you, when in fact he loves you so deeply? Why would he show me any affection, unless you told him to? Why does it matter that I'm not as lucky or lovable as you are and that the love I feel is unrequited? You should pity me for that, not hate me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," insisted America.

"Oh, fine, go ahead, keep up your little game, pretend to be sympathetic, and then wink and nudge and make faces when I turn my back. Keep up your wonderful game. This is such a good trick, someone should write a book on it. If you had any sense of pity, or manners, you wouldn't pretend to fight over me like this. But goodbye. It's partly my own fault, since I followed you here. Leaving – or dying – will soon set everything right."

"Stay, lovely Helena," cried England, "and listen to my excuse. My love, my life, my soul, beautiful Helena!"

"Oh, that's a good one."

"Don't insult her like that, Lysander darling," scolded America.

Prussia looked at England and growled, "If Hermia's begging can't stop you from insulting Helena, I can."

"You can't force me any more than Hermia can beg me," retorted England. "for your threats are no stronger than her whining. Helena, I love you! I swear I do! I'll give my life for you, just to prove this man wrong when he says that I don't love you."

"I say that I love you more than he does!"

"If that's what you say, go fight a duel with me and prove it," challenged England.

"You're on!" exclaimed Prussia. "Let's do it!"

"Lysander, where are you going with all this?" said America, holding him back. He attempted to throw her off.

"Get away, you African!"

"No, no," said Prussia to America, "he'll act like he's going to break free from you, Hermia." He turned to England. "Pretend like you're going to follow me, but then don't come. You are a coward, so leave this place!"

"Stop hanging on me," growled England to America, "you cat, you thorn. Let go of me, or I'll shake you off like I would a snake!"

"Why have you gotten so rude? What's happened to you, my darling?"

"Your darling? Get out, dark-skinned gypsy! Get out, you horrible poison. Out!"

"Are you joking?"

"Of course he is, and so are you," interjected Canada, but everyone ignored her.

England finally shook off America, who seemed to actually be intent on holding onto him. "Demetrius, I'm ready to fight you as promised."

"Perhaps we should have signed a contract, for I can see that you don't keep promises very well. I don't trust you at all."

"What? Do you want me to hit Hermia, hurt her, kill her? Sure, I hate her, but I wouldn't _hurt_ her."

America turned to England. "Can you hurt me anymore than by saying you hate me? Hate me? Why? What's happened to you, my love? Am I not Hermia? Aren't you Lysander? I'm as beautiful now as I was a little while ago. You still loved me when we fell asleep, but when you woke up you left me. So you left me—Oh, God!—you left me for real?"

"I certainly did," said England coldly, "and I never wanted to see you again. So stop hoping and wondering what I mean. I've spelled it out for you clearly – I hate you and love Helena."

"Oh, no…" she suddenly turned to Canada. "You trickster, you snake! You thief! Did you sneak in at night and steal my love's heart from him?"

"Oh, that's very nice!" said Canada indignantly. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself! You're going to make me mad enough to answer you? Damn you, you faker, you puppet!"

"'Puppet'? Why 'puppet'? – Oh, I see where this is going. She's talking about our difference in height! She's paraded in front of him to show off how tall she is. She won him over with her height. Does he have such a high opinion of you because I'm so short? Is that it? So how short am I, you painted barber pole? Tell me. How short am I? I'm not too short to gouge your eyes out with my fingernails!"

France whistled from the sides. "Woo-hoo! Catfight!"

America shot daggers at him with her eyes and he shrank back. Meanwhile, Canada turned to England and Prussia, and said with a beseeching tone, "Please don't let her hurt me, gentlemen, however much you want to tease me. I never was much good with insults. I'm not mean and catty like her. I'm a nice shy girl. Please don't let her hit me. Maybe you think that because she's shorter than me I can take her."

"Shorter!? She's doing it again!"

"Good Hermia, please don't act so bitter towards me. I always loved you, Hermia, and gave you advice. I never did anything to hurt you – except once, when I told Demetrius that you planned to sneak off into this forest. And I only did that because I loved Demetrius so much. He followed you. And I followed him because I loved him. But he told me to get lost and threatened to hit me, kick me – even kill me. Now just let me go quietly back to Athens. I'll carry my mistakes with me. I won't follow you anymore. Please let me go. You see how naïve and foolish I've been."

"Well, get out then! What's keeping you?"

"My stupid heart, which I'm leaving behind here."

"What, with Lysander?"

"With Demetrius."

"Don't be afraid," said England. "She can't hurt you, Helena."

"That's right," said Prussia, speaking to England, "Hermia won't hurt Helena even if you try to help her."

"Oh, when you get her angry, she's a good and vicious fighter," Canada said. "She was a hellcat in school. Though she be but little, she is fierce."

"'Little' again? Nothing but 'little' and 'short'! – why are you letting her insult me like this? Let me at her!"

England yelled at America, "Get lost, you dwarf, you tiny weed, you scrap, you acorn!"

"You're doing too much to defend a woman who wants nothing to do with you," said Prussia. "Leave Hermia alone. Don't talk about Helena. Don't take Helena's side. If you continue treating Hermia so badly, you'll pay for it."

"Hermia's not holding onto me anymore. Follow me if you're brave enough, and we'll fight over Helena."

"'Follow'?" said Prussia scornfully. "No, I'll walk right by you, side by side." They left together.

"All this fighting is because of you," America said to Canada. "Stay where you are."

"I'm not sticking around here anymore. I don't trust you. You might be a better fighter than I, but I am better at running." She left.

"I… just can't believe any of this," said America disbelievingly. "I don't know what to say."

She left as well, but this time no one noticed her heading to the bathroom.

Austria glared at Sealand. "This is all your fault! You make mistakes constantly, or else you cause this kind of trouble on purpose!"

"Believe me, my king, I made a mistake," Sealand protested. "Didn't you tell me that I'd be able to recognize the man by the Athenian clothes he was wearing? So far I've done exactly what I was supposed to do – I put the love potion on an Athenian's eyes. And so far I'm pleased with the way things have turned out. This has been very entertaining."

"As you can see," Austria continued, "these lovers are looking for a place to fight. Hurry up, Puck, and make the night dark and cloudy. Cover the sky with a low-hanging fog, as dark as hell, and get these overeager rivals so completely lost in the woods that they can't run into one another. Imitate Lysander's voice and egg Demetrius on with insults. Then rant for a while in Demetrius' voice and egg Lysander on. That way you'll get them away from each other until they're so exhausted that they'll sleep like the dead." He gave a new flower to Sealand. "Here, when they're asleep, crush some of this flower's juice into Lysander's eyes. The flower's juice has the power to erase all the damage that's been done to his eyes, and to make him see normally, the way he used to. When they wake up, all this trouble and conflict will seem like a dream or a meaningless vision. Then the lovers will go back to Athens, united until death. While you're doing that, I shall see the Queen Titania and ask her once more for the Indian boy. Afterwards I'll undo the spell she's under, so she won't love that monster anymore. Then everything will be peaceful."

"In that case, we've got to act fast," said Sealand. "Night's fading quickly, and in the distance the morning star is shining, warning us that dawn is coming. At dawn, the ghosts that have been wandering around all night go home to the graveyards. The souls of people who weren't buried in holy ground, but instead lie retting by the side of the road or at the bottom of a river, have already gone back to their wormy graves. They weren't buried in a proper graveyard, as they committed suicide, and they don't want their shame to be seen in daylight, so they avoid sunlight and stay forever in the darkness of night."

"But we're not like that," said Austria, smiling. "We're a different kind of spirit, and we don't have to run from the sunlight. I like the morning. I often take walks around the woods until the sun rises, turning the sea from green to gold. But still, you should hurry. Don't delay. We still have time to get all of this done before daybreak." He left.

"Up and down, up and down, I will lead them up and down. I am feared in field and town. Goblin, lead them up and down. Here comes one." England came in, turning his head this way and that.

"Where are you, arrogant Demetrius? Speak up!"

Sealand cleared his throat and did a terrifyingly accurate impression of Prussia. "I'm over here, villain, with my sword out and ready to fight. Where are you?"

"I'm coming!" called England.

"Let's go to a flatter area where we can fight more easily."

England left as Prussia came in. "Lysander, say something, you coward! Did you run away from me? Are you hiding behind a bush? Where are you?"

Sealand now did an impression of England. "You coward, are you bragging to the stars and the bush that you want a fight, yet you won't come and fight me? Come, coward! I shall beat you with a stick, since it would be shameful to fight you with a sword – like I would a _real_ man."

"Are you there!?"

"Follow my voice. This isn't a good place to fight." They both left. England came back.

"He's walking ahead of me, and he keeps daring me to follow him. When I reach the place he's calling from, he disappears. This villain is much quicker than I am. I ran after him fast, but he ran away from me faster, so that now here I am in some dark part of the forest where the ground is uneven. I'll rest here…" he lied down. "I hope the pleasant daytime comes soon! As soon as the light of the early morn comes, I'll find Demetrius and get my revenge." He closed his eyes. Sealand and Prussia came back in.

"Ha ha!" cried Sealand in an imitation of England. "Coward, why do you not come?"

"Wait for me, if you're not too scared!" said Prussia angrily. "I know that's why you're running away from me, constantly changing places – you're too afraid to stand still and wait for me. You're scared to look me in the eye. Where are you now?"

"Come hither! I am here!"

"No, you're just taunting me… you'll pay for this if I see your face tomorrow. Go wherever you want. I'm exhausted; I need to lie down and sleep on this cold ground. But watch out. I'll find you at dawn." He lied next to England and closed his eyes. Canada came in as well (and as she did, though no one noticed, America came back from the bathroom, rubbing her eyes.)

"Oh, what a long, tedious, exhausting night!" she sighed. "I wish it would end. I wish the comforting daylight would shine so I can go back to Athens and get away from these people who hate me so. I hope I'll be able to sleep and escape my troubles for a while. Difficulties may temporarily disappear while I am sleeping." She lied down and closed her eyes.

"Only three so far?" mused Sealand. "We're missing one. Ah, here she is, angry and sad. Cupid is a knavish lad thus to make poor females mad."

"I've never been more exhausted or upset," sighed America. "I'm all wet from dew and scratched from the thorns, and I can't crawl any further. I just can't go on. My legs can't hold themselves up. I'll just sleep here for the time being…" she curled up next to Canada and closed her eyes.

"Sleep well," said Sealand, squeezing something onto England's eyelids, who twitched. "I'll cure you, gentle lover, by putting this medicine on your eyes. When you wake you will be truly delighted to see the woman you once loved. Jack will have his Jill and everything will be alright." He left. England opened his eyes, then yelled and rubbed at his eyelids.

"SEALAND! Why did you put lemon juice on my eyes!?"


	9. The Couples Set Out To Marry

After England washed the lemon juice out of his eyes and spanked Sealand, he laid himself down and pretended to sleep next to America, Prussia, and Canada. Hungary came in with Denmark, who was still wearing a donkey's head. The Tomato Quartet entered behind them. Austria also entered, supposedly unseen by the others.

Hungary turned to Denmark and smiled sweetly. "Come over here and sit down on this flowery bed while I caress those lovable cheeks. I'll put roses on your silky, smooth head and kiss your big, beautiful ears, my darling."

"Where's Peaseblossom?" asked Denmark, looking around.

"Here," said Spain, smiling.

"Scratch my head, Peaseblossom. Where is Monsieur Cobweb?"

"Here," muttered Romano.

"Monsieur Cobweb, sir, bring out your weapons and kill me a striped bumblebee on a thistle, and bring me its honey. Don't tire yourself out, monsieur. Oh, and monsieur, be careful not to break the honey-sac. I'd hate to see you drowned in honey, sir."

Romano quickly left the scene.

"Where is Monsieur Mustardseed?"

Netherlands mumbled, "Here…"

"Give me your first, Mr. Mustardseed. Please, stop bowing, good sir."

"What would you like me to do?" asked Netherlands reluctantly.

"Nothing, good sir, except to help Sir Cobweb scratch my head. I should go to the barber's monsieur, because I think I'm getting really hairy around the face. And I'm such a sensitive ass that if my hair tickles me even a little, I must scratch."

"Would you like to hear music, my love?" said Hungary.

"I have a pretty good ear for music," Denmark boasted. "Let's hear someone play the triangle and sticks."

"…or tell me, my sweet love, what you'd like to eat."

"Actually," said Denmark thoughtfully, "I'd like a few pounds of grass. I'd like to munch on some good dry oats. Or maybe I've got a hankering for a bundle of hay. There's nothing like good, sweet hay."

"I have an adventurous faery who will seek out the squirrel's secret stash and bring you nuts."

"I'd rather have a handful of dried peas," admitted Denmark, "but please don't let any of your people wake me. I'd really like to sleep now."

"Go to sleep, and I will wrap my arms around you," Hungary sighed. Then she turned to the remaining group. "Faeries, begone. Run off in all directions."

They left, Netherlands leaving the fastest.

"I'm putting my arms around you just like the woodbine tendril gently twists itself around the sweet honeysuckle, and like the female ivy curls itself around the elm branches. Oh, how I love you! I'm crazy about you!"

They closed their eyes as Sealand came in, rubbing his bottom.

"Welcome, good Puck," greeted Austria. "Do you see this sweet sight? Now I'm starting to pity Titania for being so infatuated. I ran into her recently at the edge of the forest, looking for sweet presents for this hateful idiot, and I scolded her and argued with her. She had put a wreath of fresh, fragrant flowers around his hairy forehead, and the drops of dew that lay in the center of the flowers made them look as if they were crying with shame to be decorating the head of that ugly jackass. When I had taunted her as much as I wished, and she begged me very nicely to leave her alone, I asked her for the stolen Indian child. She said yes right away, and sent a faery to bring him to my home in Faeryland. And now that I have the boy, I'll undo the spell that makes her vision so disgustingly wrong. And, gentle Puck, take this transformed ass' head off of the head of that Athenian man, so that when he wakes up at the same time as the rest of them do, they can all go back to Athens. They'll only remember the events of tonight as a rather unpleasant dream. But first I'll release the faery queen from her spell."

He knelt down and pretended to squeeze something onto Hungary's eyelids. "Be like you used to be, and see like you used to see. This bud belongs to Diana, the goddess of virginity, and it has the power to undo the effects of Cupid's flower. Now, Titania, wake up, my sweet queen."

Hungary pretended to come awake to see Austria's smiling face. She smiled back at him. "Oh, Oberon, I've had such a strange dream! I've dreamt I was in love with an ass!"

"There's your boyfriend," said Austria, pointing to Denmark. Hungary recoiled.

"How did this happen? Oh, how I hate looking at his face now!"

"Be quiet for a while—" Hungary fell silent. "—Puck, remove his ass head. Titania, get the faeries to play some music, and make these five mortals sleep more soundly than anyone has ever slept."

"Music!" called Hungary. "Play the kind of music that puts people to sleep!"

The sound of flutes and strings reached everyone's ears, and it was assumed that someone, upon England's request, had turned on an MP3 player.

Meanwhile, Sealand was taking off the donkey's head from Denmark. "When you wake up, see things with your own foolish eyes."

"Play the music," said Austria softly. He held out his hands. "Take my hands, my queen, and we'll lull these people to sleep with our soft dancing." Hungary shyly took his hands and they began to waltz. "Now that you and I are together again, we can dance for the king tomorrow at midnight, blessing his marriage and his marriage bed. These other lovers shall marry alongside him, and everyone will be in high spirits."

They continued to dance, holding each other tightly, until Sealand tapped Austria's shoulder. "My lord, the lark is singing. Morning is nigh."

Austria, seemingly reluctantly, released Hungary. "In that case, my queen, let's travel silently and solemnly across the globe to where night reigns, circling the Earth faster than the moon."

"And while we're walking," added Hungary, raising her eyebrows, "you can tell me how I came to sleep with an ass."

She, Austria, and Sealand left. Russia, China, Japan, and France came in to take their place.

"Good Philostrate, go find the forest ranger," instructed Russia. "Since we're done with the May Day rites and it's still early in the morning, my love will have a chance to hear the beautiful music of my hunting dogs barking as they chase their prey. Unleash the dogs in the western valley. Let them go. Now find the ranger."

Japan bowed and left.

"My beautiful queen," continued Russia, smiling at China, "we'll go up the mountain and listen to the hounds as their barking echoes in the cliffs like music."

China said coolly, "I was with the heroes Hercules and Cadmus once, when their Spartan hunting dogs cornered a bear-aru. I'd never heard such impressive barking before in my life. The forests, the skies, the mountains, everything around us seemed to echo their barks. I'd never heard such raucous music, such pleasant thunder-aru."

"My dogs are bred from Spartan hounds," assured Russia. "They have the same folds of flesh around their mouths, the same sandy-colored fur, and hanging ears that brush the morning dew off the grass. They have crooked knees and folds of skin under their necks, just like the Spartan hounds. They're not very fast in the chase, but their barking sounds like bells ringing. No one has ever gone hunting with a more musical pack of dogs. Judge for yourself, when you hear them." He looked down and seemed surprised to see England, America, Prussia, and Canada lying on the floor. "Oh! And who are these?"

"My lord," said France, "that's my daughter Hermia asleep on the ground, and this is Lysander, and this is Demetrius, and this here is Helena, old Nedar's daughter. But why are they all here?"

"They probably woke up early to celebrate May Day," said Russia thoughtfully, "and came for my celebration when they heard I'd be here. But tell me, Egeus, isn't today the day that fair Hermia must tell us her decision about marrying Demetrius?"

"It is, my lord."

Japan came back and Russia immediately sent him off to blow the horns and wake up the four sleepers. Japan went off again, and soon several trumpets were heard. America, England, Canada, and Prussia opened their eyes and sat up. Russia smiled at them. "Good morning, comrades. Valentine's Day has passed. Are you all pairing up only now?"

They uncertainly knelt in front of Russia.

"Forgive us, my lord," said England quietly.

"Please, all of you, stand." They rose in front of him.

"I know you two are enemies," Russia said, speaking to England and Prussia. "Has the world really become so gentle and peaceful that people who hate each other have started to trust each other and sleep beside one another without being afraid?"

"My lord," England stated, "what I say may be a little confused since I'm half asleep and half awake. I swear, at this moment I really couldn't tell you how I ended up here. But I think – and now that I think about it, I'm almost certain this is true – I came here with Hermia. We were planning to leave Athens to escape the nuptial law—"

"Enough! Enough, my lord," cried France, interrupting England. "You've heard enough evidence! I insist that he law punish him – they were going to run away, Demetrius," he said, turning to Prussia, "they were running away to defeat us, robbing you of your wife and me of my fatherly right to decide who my son-in-law will be."

Prussia ignored him. "My lord," he addressed Russia scowling heavily at having to speak to him like that, "the beautiful Helena told me of their secret plan to escape into this forest. I was furious and followed them, and fair Helena loved me so much that she followed me. I'm not sure how it happened – but somehow, something made my love for Hermia melt away like snow. My past love for Hermia now seems like a memory of some cheap toy that I loved as a child. Now the only person I love, believe in, and want to look at is Helena. I was engaged to her before I ever met Hermia. And then I hated her for a time, as a sick person hates the food he usually loves. But now I have my natural taste back, like a recovered sick person. I want Helena now. I love her, I long for her, and I will always be true to her."

"You pretty lovers are lucky that you met me here," Russia commented. "We'll talk more about this later. Egeus," he added, turning to a shocked France, "I'm overriding your wishes. These couples will be wed alongside Hippolyta and I in the temple later today. And now, since the morning is almost over, we'll give up on the idea of hunting. Come with us to Athens." He beckoned the lovers. "We three couples will celebrate with a sumptuous feast. Come, Hippolyta."

China and France left with him. The other four remained behind.

"What exactly happened?" said Prussia wonderingly. "The events of last night seem small and hard to see clearly, like far-off mountains that look like clouds in the distance."

"Yes," added America dreamily, "it's like my eyes are out of focus, and I'm seeing everything double."

"Me too," said Canada. "I won Demetrius so easily, as if he were a precious diamond I just found lying around. It's mine because I found it, but I feel like someone else could easily come and claim it was hers."

"Are you sure we're awake?" Prussia asked cautiously. "It seems to me like we're still sleeping, still dreaming. Do you remember seeing the king here? Did he tell us to follow him?"

"Yes, he did, and my father was here too."

"And Hippolyta," said Canada.

"And he told us to follow him to the temple," added England.

"Well, then, we're awake," said Prussia happily. "Let's follow him. We can tell one another our dreams along the way."

They left, following Russia, China, and France. Denmark opened his eyes and sat up suddenly.

"Tell me when my cue comes, and I'll say my line. My next cue is "Most handsome Pyramus"—Hey! Peter Quince? Flute the bellows-mender? Snout the tinker? Starveling? My God, they've all run away and left me sleeping here? What a strange dream I've had. You can't even describe such a strange dream. You'd be an ass if you even tried to explain it. I thought I was—no, nobody can even describe what I was. I thought I was, I thought I had—but a person would be an idiot to try to say what I thought I had. No eyes has ever heard, no ear has ever seen, no hand has tasted, nor tongue felt, or heart described what my dream was like. I shall get Peter Quince to write it in a ballad. I shall call it "Bottom's Dream" because it has no bottom. And I'll sing it for the king at the play's intermission – no, to make it even more lovely, perhaps I should sing it at the part where the heroine dies…"

And he, too, left, muttering to himself.


	10. The Idiot Comes Back

Norway, Finland, Sweden, and Iceland came in and gathered in a circle. Norway sighed.

"Have you sent anyone to Bottom's house? Has he come home yet?"

"No one's heard from him," replied Iceland. "I'm certain he's been kidnapped!"

"If he doesn't show up," Finland said regretfully, "the play is ruined. It won't go on, will it?"

"No, it would be impossible," stated Norway bluntly. "He's the only man in Athens who can play Pyramus."

"Definitely. He's quite simply the smartest working-man in Athens."

"Yes, and the best-looking too. His voice is a paramour of sweetness."

"I think you mean a paragon – a paramour is something bad."

Scotland came in at that point. "The king's leaving the temple. Two or three more lords and ladies have been married too. If we'd been able to put on our play, we'd have had it made…"

"Oh, that great, funny guy, that Bottom!" cried Finland. "He would have gotten a pension of six pence a day for his whole life. Six pence a day would've been forced on him. I'll be damned if the king wouldn't have given him six pence a day for playing Pyramus. And he would have deserved it, too – Pyramus is worth six pence a day, or nothing at all!"

Denmark wandered in, calling, "Where are my guys? Where are my good fellows?"

"Bottom!" Norway cried, relieved. "Oh, how wonderful to see you! Oh, what a relief!"

"My friends," stated Denmark seriously, "I've got some amazing things to tell you – but don't ask me to tell you what. I swear by my pride as an Athenian that I won't tell you anything. I shall tell you everything exactly as it happened."

"Tell us, sweet Bottom!"

"No, you won't get a word out of me. All I'll tell you is that the king has had dinner already. Now it's time to get your costumes together. Find some good strings for tying on your false beards, and grab new ribbons to decorate your shoes. Meet me at the palace as soon as possible. Look over your lines again. Our play's going to be performed for the duke! So make sure Thisbe's wearing clean underwear, and make sure whoever's playing the lion doesn't cut his nails, for he needs them long to look like lion's claws. And no one eat any onions or garlic. If we have sweet-smelling breath, I'm sure they'll say 'it's a sweet play'. Now no more talking. Get busy, go!"

The Nordics, plus Scotland, left talking among themselves.


	11. The Lovers Are Blest

Russia, China, and Japan entered after the Nordics left. China said thoughtfully, "Those lovers are saying some strange things Theseus-aru."

"Дa, strange," Russia agreed, "and completely made-up. I'll never believe any of these old legends or fairy tales. Lovers and madmen hallucinate about things that sane people just can't understand. Lunatics, lovers, and poets all are ruled by their overactive imaginations. Some people think they see demons and monsters everywhere – and they're lunatics. Lovers are just as crazy, and think a dark-skinned gypsy is the most beautiful woman in the world. Poets are always looking around like they're having a fit, confusing the mundane with the otherworldly, and describing things in their writing that simply don't exist. All these people have such strong imaginations that, when they feel happy, they assume a god or some other supernatural being is bringing them happiness. Or if they're afraid of something at night, they look at the shrubbery and imagine that it's really a bear!"

"But the story that these lovers are telling-aru," protested China, "and the fact that they all saw and heard exactly the same things, make me think there's more going on here than imaginary fantasies-aru. Their story is bizarre and astounding but it's solid and consistent-aru."

"Ah, here are the lovers now," Russia said, seeing England, Prussia, America, and Canada entering and laughing happily. "I wish you joy, my friends! I hope the days ahead are full of joy for you!"

"We wish you ever more joy, your majesty," said England, who seemed too happy to sneer at Russia, "and hope joy comes to you in your royal walks, your table, and your bed!"

"Now, what kind of entertainment do we have to fill up the long three hours between dinner and bedtime?" mused Russia. "Where is our entertainment director? What performances have been prepared? Aren't there any plays for us to enjoy while we wait in torture for bedtime to come?" (China cringed, muttering, "Can we _please_ stop mentioning the bed-aru?") "Let me see Philostrate!"

"Here I am, Theseus," murmured Japan.

"Tell us what entertainment you've prepared for the evening. Which plays, what music? How will we pass the time without some entertainment?"

"Here's a list of all the acts that have been prepared. Choose which one you want to see first."

"Hm…" Russia examined the paper. "'The battle between Hercules and the Centaurs, to be sung by an Athenian eunuch, accompanied by a harp.' No, we won't see that; I've already told the story to Hippolyta while praising my cousin Hercules. What else? … 'The riot of the drunk Bacchanals who rip the singer Orpheus to shreds.' That's an old show, and I saw it the last time I came back from conquering Thebes. 'The nine Muses mourning the death of learning and scholarship.' That's some sharp, critical satire, and it's not appropriate for a wedding. 'A tedious short drama about young Pyramus and his love Thisbe, a very sad and tragic comedy.' A sad comedy? Short but still tedious? That's like hot ice and strange snow. How can this drama be so many contradictory things?"

"It's a play about ten words long," Japan interjected, "which is the shortest play I've ever heard of. But in my opinion, it's about ten words too long. That's why it's tedious. In the entire play, not one word is well-written, and not one of the actors is right for his part. It's tragic because Pyramus kills himself. I have to admit that when I saw his suicide during their rehearsal, I had tears in my eyes, though they were tears of laughter."

"Who are the actors?"

"Rough workmen from Athens who never spent much time thinking. Now they've worn out their out-of-shape brains to put on this play for your wedding."

"So let's see it."

"No, my noble lord," said Japan firmly. "This play isn't right for you. I've seen the whole thing, and it's completely worthless – unless you think their bad acting and misremembered lines – which they memorized so painfully – are funny."

"I'll watch this play," repeated Russia. "Nothing can really be that bad when it's created by simple people who try hard. Come on, bring them in. And ladies, please sit."

Japan went to fetch the Nordics.

"I don't like seeing poor people overburdened or looking bad when they're trying to do something good-aru," China stated.

"You won't see anything like that, sweetheart," Russia assured.

"But he just said that they're no good at acting-aru."

"Then we're even kinder people for thanking them for something that they're not good at. We'll entertain ourselves by accepting their mistakes. When poor dutiful people can't do certain things well, generous people can consider the effort they put into it rather than the effect they produce. In my travels, great scholars have come up to me, meaning to greet me with well-rehearsed welcoming speeches, and I have seen them tremble and turn pale, and pause inappropriately in the middle of their sentences, and botch their well-rehearsed tones of voice because they're so nervous, and then break off abruptly at the end, without actually welcoming me. Trust me, my sweet, I was quick to lop their heads off—"

"_Russia—_"

"…Trust me, my sweet, I figured out that they were trying to welcome me even though they were silent, and that message was as clear from someone who was modest and nervously dutiful as it is from someone who is loud and audacious and eloquent. Therefore, love and tongue-tied simplicity can say the most even when they're saying the least, in my opinion."

Japan came in. "Your grace… the person who is going to deliver the prologue is ready."

"Let him come, then."

Norway came in. "If we happen to offend you," he began, "it's because we want to. We don't want you to think we came here to offend you, except that we want to offend you with our good intentions. Our plan to show off our little bit of talent will wind up getting us executed. Please keep in mind we're only here out of spite. We don't come here with the intention of making you happy. We're absolutely not here to delight you. The actors are ready to come out and make you sorry. By watching their show, you'll find out everything you're likely to know."

"This man doesn't pay much attention to punctuation," whispered Russia.

"He rode that prologue like a wild horse," England compared. "He didn't know how to stop it. The moral of this story is that it's not enough to speak; you have to speak grammatically."

"Yes," agreed China, "he performed his prologue like a child plays a recorder – he can make sounds but they're out of control-aru."

"His speech was like a tangled chain, for it went on and on in a total mess. Who's next?"

The rest of the Nordic cast (plus Scotland) entered. Denmark stood there, grinning like an idiot.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Norway spoke, "perhaps you are wondering what is going on. Well, keep wondering, until the truth makes everything clear. This man is Pyramus, if you want to know. This beautiful lady is definitely Thisbe. This man with the limestone and cement is portraying Wall, that horrible wall that kept these lovers apart. They are content to whisper through Wall's little hole, the poor souls, and no one should be surprised. This man, with his lantern, dog, and thornbush, portrays Moonshine, because, if you want to know, the lovers were not ashamed to meet each other by moonshine at Ninus' tomb in order to carry on their courtship. This grisly beast, which is called 'Lion', scared away, or rather frightened, the faithful Thisbe when she arrived at the meeting place at night. As she ran away from him, she dropped her cloak, which the horrible Lion stained with his bloody mouth. Soon Pyramus comes along, a tall and handsome young man, and finds his faithful Thisbe's cloak to be dead. At this point, he takes his sword, his bloody blameful blade, and bravely breaks open his boiling bloody breast. And Thisbe, hiding in the shade of the mulberry bush, took his dagger and killed herself. For the rest of the story, let Lion, Moonshine, Wall, and the two lovers talk more about it, since they're standing there." He stepped off to the side.

"I wonder if the lion's going to talk," said Russia thoughtfully.

"It wouldn't surprise me," responded Prussia. "If these asses can speak, a lion should be able to."

"'t th's p'nt," announced Sweden, "I, Sn't, pl' a w'll. B't n't j'st 'ny w'll. I w'nt y' t' 'nd'rst'nd th't I'm pr't'nd'ing t' b' a k'nd 'f w'll th't h's a l'ttle h'le 'n 't. Th' l'v'rs P'r'm's 'nd Th'sb' 'ft'n wh'sp'red v'ry s'cr'tly thr'gh th't h'le. Th's cl'y, th's c'm'nt, 'nd th's st'ne th't 'm c'rr'ng 'r'nd sh'w th't 'm th' w'll. 't's th' tr'th. 'nd th's 's th' cr'ck, r'ght s'de 'nd l'ft s'de…" He pointed with two fingers. "…thr'gh wh'ch th' fr'ght'n'd l'v'rs w'll b' wh'sp'r'ing."

"Can you imagine cement and stone talking better?" questioned Russia.

"It's the smartest partition I've ever heard speak, my lord."

"Pyramus is coming up. Quiet!"

"Oh, grim-looking night!" cried Denmark. "Oh, night that is so black in color! Oh night, which is always there when it is not day! Oh night! Oh night! So sad, sad, sad, I'm afraid my Thisbe has forgotten her promise! And you, oh Wall, oh sweet, oh lovely Wall, you stand between her father's property and mine, you wall, oh Wall, oh sweet and lovely Wall. Show me your hole to stick my eye up against!"

Sweden held up two fingers.

"Thank you, you're such a polite wall. God bless you for doing this. But what's this I see? I don't see any Thisbe. Oh wicked wall, through which I don't see any happiness! Damn your stones for disappointing me like this!"

"Since the wall is conscious," commented Russia, "it should curse back at him."

"No," said Denmark to Russia, breaking character, "actually, sir, he shouldn't say anything. It's not his turn, it's Thisbe's. 'Disappointing me like this', is Thisbe's cue. She's supposed to come now, and I'll see her through the wall. You'll see, it'll happen exactly like I say. Here she comes."

Finland came up on the other side of the wall.

"Oh wall," he sighed in falsetto, "you've often heard me moaning because you keep me separated from my handsome Pyramus! My cherry lips have often kissed your bricks, which are stuck together with cement."

"I see a voice!" exclaimed Denmark. "I'll go to the hole to see if I can hear my Thisbe's face. Thisbe?"

"You are my love, my love, I think."

"I'm your love, no matter what you think. And I'm still faithful to you, just like the famous Limander."

"And I'll be faithful to you as Helen of Troy, until the day I die."

"Not even Shafalus was as faithful to his lover Procrus as I am to you."

"Me too, I'm as faithful as Shafalus to Procrus."

"Oh, kiss me through the hole in this nasty wall."

"But I'm only kissing the wall's hole, not your lips at all."

"Will you meet me right away at Ninny's grave?"

"Neither life nor death will stop me from coming!"

They went their separate ways. Sweden glowered at Denmark's back, then turned back and cleared his throat. "I, W'll, h've d'ne m' p'rt. N'w th't 'm d'ne, W'll c'n g' 'w'y." He promptly turned and left.

Russia quietly commented on the play again: "The lovers should've waited a little longer – the wall is gone now."

"What can you do?" said Prussia, shrugging. "That's what happens with talking walls."

"This is the silliest thing I have ever seen-aru."

"The best plays are still only illusions, and the worst are just as good, if you just use your imagination to fill them in."

"In that case it is your imagination that's interesting not the play-aru."

"If we imagine these fellows as they imagine themselves, then they're first-class actors. Ah, here are a man and a lion."

Scotland came in along with Iceland.

"You, ladies," said the former (who was wearing a lion suit), "whose gentle hearts make you afraid of the smallest monstrous mouse that crawls around on the floor, might quake and tremble now when the wild lion roars in his most violent rage. You should know that I, Snug the carpenter, am not a fierce lion or a lioness, because if I were a lion and I showed up here to cause trouble, I'd be taking my life in my hands."

"Ah, it's a sensitive animal, with a good conscience."

"He's the best lion I've ever seen."

"He's as brave as a fox."

"True. And a good wise one at that."

"Oh, that's not true, my lord. He's not brave enough to be wise."

"He's not wise enough to be brave. Anyway, he is what he is. Let's listen to the moon."

Iceland spoke. "This lantern represents the horned moon—"

"He should have worn the horns on his head," interrupted Prussia.

"He's not a crescent moon," argued Russia, "so his horns must be invisible inside the circle."

Iceland sighed and tried again. "This lantern represents the moon. I myself a playing the man in the moon—"

He was interrupted by Russia this time. "Well then, that's the biggest mistake of all. He should be inside the lantern if he's the man in the moon."

"But he can't go in there because of the candle."

"I'm tired of this moon! I wish he'd wax or wane off the stage-aru!"

"It seems like he is waning, but out of politeness we'll have to wait and see."

"Go ahead, Moon," invited England.

"All I wanted to tell you is that the lantern represents the moon, I'm the man in the moon, and this thornbush is my thornbush."

"Well, all of these should be in the lantern, because they're all in the moon! But quiet, here's Thisbe."

"This is old Ninny's tomb," said Finland, "but where is my love?"

"HEY!" roared Scotland.

Finland shrieked and ran off, dropping his cloak.

"Good roaring, lion!" yelled Prussia.

"Good running, Thisbe!" said Russia.

"Good shining Moon-aru!" said China. "…really the Moon shines very well-aru."

Scotland shook the cloak back and forth, covering it with red.

"That's good, Lion!" cried Russia. "Shake it around like a cat with a mouse…"

Denmark came in.

"And then Pyramus showed up—" said Prussia.

Scotland left.

"—so the lion disappeared." England finished.

"Sweet Moon," said Denmark, "I thank you for your sunny beams. I thank you, Moon, for shining so bright, because by the light of your gracious, golden, glittering gleams, I hope to be able to see my faithful Thisbe. But wait – oh no! But look, poor me, what a terrible tragedy is here! Eyes, do you see? How can it be? Oh, dainty duck! Oh, dear! Your cloak so good, what, stained with blood? Come, terrible Furies, and punish whoever has hurt her! Oh, Fate, come and cut the thread of my life! Conquer, crush, conclude, kill!"

"You could get sad watching this actor's passionate lament," Russia remarked, "if one of your good friends happened to die right at the same time."

"Damned if I don't feel sorry for him-aru."

"Oh, Mother Nature," Denmark lamented, "why did you create lions? A mean and awful lion has deflowered my darling, who is – no, who was – the most beautiful lady that ever lived, or lived, or liked, or looked. Come on, tears, pour over me! Come on out, sword, and wound Pyramus in the chest – yes, right here on the left side where his heart is!" He stabbed himself with a prop knife. "And so I'm dying. Here I go, here I go. Okay, I'm dead now. My soul has fled to the sky. My tongue shall see no more. It's time for the moon to go away."

Iceland shrugged and left.

"Now die, die, die, die, die…" He fell to the ground and stuck his tongue out comically.

"Is someone throwing dice?" said Prussia. "I guess it's 'die', not dice, since there's only one of him."

"Actually," corrected England, "he's a die with no dots, since he's dead."

"With a doctor's help he may recover and become an ass again."

"If Moonshine's gone before Thisbe comes back then how will she see her dead lover-aru?"

"She'll see him by the starlight, dear. Here she is. Her moaning and groaning shall end this play."

Finland entered.

"I don't think a ridiculous Pyramus like that one deserves much moaning-aru. I hope she keeps it short-aru."

Prussia interrupted. "I can't decide whether Pyramus or Thisbe is better. God help us if he's a better man. But God help us if she's a better woman."

"Look," said England, "she's spotted him with those sweet eyes of hers."

"And now she'll start moaning, of course—"

"Are you asleep, my love?" said Finland. "What, are you dead, my dove? Oh, Pyramus, get up! Speak, speak. Can't you talk? Dead, dead? The dirt of a grave must cover your sweet eyes! Your lily-white lips, your cherry-red nose, and your buttercup-yellow cheeks are gone, gone forever. Lovers, moan and weep. His eyes were green as leeks. Oh, Fate, come, come to me, with hands as pale as milk. Soak your hands in blood and gore, since you have cut the thread of his life with scissors. Tongue, do not speak. Come, trusty sword. Come, blade, drench my breast with blood." He picked up the prop knife and stabbed himself. "Goodbye, friends! This is how Thisbe ends. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye!" He fell to the floor.

"And Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead."

"And Wall too."

Denmark opened his eyes and said, "No, I assure you. The wall that kept their fathers apart has been taken down. Would you like to see the epilogue or hear a country dance between the two of us?"

"No epilogue," said Russia quickly. "Your play doesn't need to be excused afterward with an epilogue. Never apologize – if the actors are all dead, no one can be blamed. As a matter of fact, if the playwright had played Pyramus and hanged himself with Thisbe's belt, it would have been a very good tragedy. A very good, well-done tragedy… but come on, let's see you do this dance. Forget the epilogue."

But the Nordics had already left.

"…okay. The clock has chimed midnight. Lovers, it's time to go to bed. It's almost faery time. I'm afraid we're going to oversleep in the morning as late as we've stayed up tonight. This blatantly stupid play helped us kill the time until bed. Dear friends, let's go to bed. We'll continue this celebration for two weeks, with nightly parties and new fun." He smiled creepily at China, who shuddered. The three couples exited. Sealand came in.

"Now the hungry lion roars and the wolf howls at the moon. The farmer snores, exhausted from his work. The charred logs glow in the fireplace, and the owl's hoot makes the sick man think of his own death. Now is the time of night when graves open wide and release spirits to glide over the graveyard paths. And we faeries, who run away from the sun just like the goddess of the night, following darkness like a dream, are getting antsy. But I'm here to make sure that no one, not even a mouse, disturbs this blessed house. I've been sent to clean house a bit before my king and queen come."

Austria and Hungary entered, holding hands. "Let the dying fire shine a glimmering light throughout the house." Austria straightened his spectacles. "I want every elf and faery to hop lightly, like a bird on a twig, and to sing and dance this song with me."

"First rehearse your song from memory," instructed Hungary, "and make sure each note is good."

Austria sang.

"_Now until the break of day_

_ Through this house each faery stray_

_ To the best bride bed will we_

_ Which by us shall blessed be_

_ And the issue there create_

_ Ever shall be fortunate_

_ So shall all the couples three_

_ Ever true in loving be_

_ And the blots of Nature's hand_

_ Shall not in their issue stand_

_ Never mole, harelip, nor scar_

_ Nor mark prodigious, such as are_

_ Despised in nativity_

_ Shall upon their children be_

_ With this field dew consecrate_

_ Every faery take his gait_

_ And each several chamber bless_

_ Through this palace with sweet peace_

_ And the owner of it blessed_

_ Ever shall in safety rest_

_ Trip away_

_ Make no stay_

_ Meet me all by break of day._"

There was much applause from the sides at his lovely singing voice. He smiled at Hungary and they left, holding hands. Sealand stepped forward.

"If we actors have offended you, just think of it this way and everything will be all right – you were sleeping when you saw these visions, and this silly and pathetic story was no more real than a dream. Ladies and gentlemen, don't get upset with me. If you forgive us, we'll make everything all right. I'm an honest Puck, and I swear that if we're lucky enough not to get hissed at, we'll make it up to you soon. If not, then I'm a liar. So good night to everyone. Give me some applause, if we're friends, and Puck will make everything up to you."

He bowed and smirked at England, who glared and turned his head.

There was a brief silence before clapping emerged from actors and audience alike.

* * *

**There will be one more chapter after this, so stick around :)**


	12. The Epilogue Is Shown

Before going back to their respective homes, the nations milled around, talking about the play amongst them. America found England standing by himself in the corner.

"Hey," she said, coming up to him. He coughed.

"Hello," he said. _What does she want? Is it…_

America held out her hand. "The antidote. Now."

He sighed and reached into his pocket, handing her a stopped-up bottle. She tilted her head back and drank, returning to her original male form in just a few seconds.

_Of course she – he just wanted the antidote._

America reached into his pocket and put his glasses on. He blinked at England and seemed to consider something. England flushed. "What… what are you looking at?"

"Okay, so it wasn't just the potion."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, um… um, this is kind of awkward…"

"Spill it, America."

"…I thought it might have been the potion's fault. The fact that I was a girl until just now."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well… um…"

"Say it already."

"I… thought it might have been due to the fact that I was a girl… that _that_ would explain… why-I-was-attracted-to-you." He said this last part very quickly and immediately closed his mouth afterwards, turning beet red and looking at the ground.

England opened his mouth, closed it again, and looked at the ground too. He mumbled something.

"What?"

"Well… er, I just found out that… it wasn't the potion's fault that… I was attracted to you as well…"

There was an extremely awkward silence between them, in which they would sometimes look up at each other, and quickly glance back down.

America scratched the back of his head. "So…"

"Oh, just kiss already!" cried France from behind America.

England and America quickly defenestrated him. While England shut the window, America said thoughtfully, "Y'know, I think we should take his advice for once."

"What?" England straightened up, just in time for America to grab him by the shoulders, pin him against the wall, and kiss him full on the lips. England's eyes widened before closing and he began to kiss back.

* * *

Canada, meanwhile, snuck up to the two kissing countries and took the second potion from England's pocket. She quietly went away and swallowed the potion, returning to her male form just like America. Suddenly everything went dark.

"Guess who?"

Canada blushed and pulled off the hands. "Prussia, get off me!"

Prussia cackled and pulled away, coming to face Canada. "C'mon, Mattie, you know that was funny!"

"Not re—wait, did you call me Mattie?"

"Yeah."

"You know my name?"

"Yeah. Why shouldn't I?"

Canada looked at the ground. "No one seems to remember my name except for Al and _papa_."

"Oh yeah, that reminds me."

"Mm?"

"I meant what I said earlier."

"Pardon?"

He cleared his throat and quoted, "Oh Canada, you goddess, you divine and perfect nymph!"

Canada turned redder when he realized what Prussia was implying. He mumbled, "I'm a guy now, Prussia."

"Fine then… Oh Canada, you god, you divine—"

"Prussia!"

"Seriously," Prussia leaned in. "I really like you, Mattie."

"Um…" Canada looked down so much that his face was practically hidden in the folds of his sweater. "I… kind-of-like-you-too."

"Then you won't mind if I do this, right?" Prussia grabbed Canada, lifted up his head, and kissed him. Canada turned so red that his face was the exact shade of a ripe tomato.

* * *

"Eliza!"

Hungary turned around at the sound of her name to see Austria walking towards her. She had just been feeling rather sad, since her reunion with Austria as a couple was just in the play, and that play was now over.

"I… I wanted to say something…"

"What is it, Roderich?"

"Well… just now, in the play…" he rubbed the back of his neck. "When we danced and embraced each other…"

"Yes…?" she said hopefully, a smile starting to break out on her face.

"I… I remembered how happy I was with you…" his cheeks turned pink. "…and I realized just how much I miss you… so I guess what I'm trying to say is… I'm sorry for divorcing you. Will you take me back?"

She smiled broadly and threw herself into his arms. His expression softened and he hugged her back.

* * *

King Oberon, Queen Titania, and Puck hovered at the edge of the room, unseen by anyone. Perhaps England would have seen them if he was not preoccupied.

"Puck, you've done well," spoke Oberon, "with the plant's spell."

Puck bowed. "Of course, my lord. Puck fixes everything."

"My Oberon, we must take our leave now," said Titania.

"The queen is right," Puck said. "The spirits need our guidance."

And so the faeries left the room and returned to their realm.

* * *

Oh, and by the way, Puck didn't do the spell correctly this time – he accidentally took the wrong flower. But Oberon doesn't need to know that, does he?

* * *

~Fin~

* * *

**Hooray romantic cheesy crappy ending for you all!**

**Anyway, story's done - thank you for your support, minna-sama~!**


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